


Give Me the Strength to Be Myself

by Wheezefeeds



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meg and Gavin are dating in the beginning, Panic Attacks, Smut, Supportive Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheezefeeds/pseuds/Wheezefeeds
Summary: Relationships aren't always easy, and neither is learning how to express yourself and your struggles. Gavin learns this the hard way, as his life becomes an unfulfilling stream of grey that seems to have no end.Thankfully, he has people who will always try to support him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Justicewaul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justicewaul/gifts).



> Wow, this fic sort of ran away from me a bit, lol. I rushed to have it finished so I could post it on time.   
> However, it was extremely fun to do, though a bit difficult. Depression is hard to explain in writing, haha.   
> Hopefully, you enjoy your gift, and it fulfills everything you wanted in your prompt! c:
> 
> ( ~~I'm just gonna put here - as a disclaimer - that I in no way disapprove of Gavin and Meg's relationship. Ok? Ok.~~ )
> 
> ~ This work is not beta read. All editing is done by me, and I apologize for any mistakes I might have missed. ~

Gavin was tired.

Not physically, oh no. He'd never moved around often enough for that to be the case regularly. No, he was mentally tired, and it just seemed to continuously worsen until it felt like a crushing exhaustion. He could play all the games he wanted, make jokes and fun content at work, but nothing elevated his spirits back to those of the excited Gavin from years past.

That version of himself had been slowly fading away until he was an empty shell of bitter nothingness. 

Empty was a difficult thing to be when his job relied on appearing as a happy-go-lucky man with the energy of a child. He tried his best to make sure that his well-crafted image didn't disappear from any content, but it was harder than he ever could have imagined. 

Talking was too much effort most of the time. Not for a lack of trying, of course. He wanted to work his jaw, smile and laugh, but he just _couldn't_. It always felt like he'd been speaking for hours, the way his mouth was too tired to move. In the end, Gavin just resorted to humming in response to things directed his way when the effort got to be too much.

That occurred more often than he could hide.

People had started to notice. How could they not? His every move, every word were scrutinized by a dedicated horde of fans who didn't miss a single tone of voice or shift of the body. Often, they made too much of things, but tended to never be that far off. 

They often got closer than he liked to admit. 

And besides their watchful eyes, the people he worked with had noticed as well. The Achievement Hunter office - his friends - could tell almost immediately when he'd begun to quiet down. They weren't always the most observant bunch, it was true, but Gavin felt as if they'd seen a change before he even had himself. 

To his great pleasure though, despite how difficult it may have been for them, they never said much. He would occasionally get a glance his way that lasted a bit too long, and looked a little too concerned, but his unusual quietness was never mentioned in any serious context. Gavin was immensely thankful, because he didn't know what he'd even say if they asked about it.

They probably didn't ask much, because they figured he wouldn't respond anyway.   
   
'What's made you go so quiet?', they might have probed. He didn't know how to put it into words. His mass of tangled emotions was difficult enough to unravel in his own head, let alone to explain to someone who couldn't feel what he did.

As for his girlfriend, well, Gavin knew that she cared about him, and always meant well. For his own part, he loved Meg a lot more than he'd thought himself capable of when they'd started their relationship just over three short years ago. 

She'd been the one to push him into it, practically forcing him to attend their first date, but he'd surprisingly never been very annoyed about it. He _had_ been standing her up, and now it was a ridiculously embarrassing story that they could tell and laugh about. 

He'd gotten lucky to get a woman who still wanted him after how reluctant he had acted. He supposed that he remained lucky to this day. Meg was still always loving and kind, despite the fact that the relationship wasn't going where she wanted it to.

Normally, she was able to nudge Gavin into little things, such as a first date, which he was more than happy to comply with. He was usually pleased with the outcome anyways. But, marriage with her was a thought that curled his stomach into an uncomfortable knot, causing his throat to dry until no words could possibly come out.

Meg loved him deeply, had said so multiple times, and he believed her. Felt the same way, even. Gavin understood that marriage was the next step for her; another way to show her undying emotion, or whatever way romantics took to phrasing it. 

Gavin, however, felt differently. Mostly it just seemed unnecessary. He didn't need a ring to remind himself of who he loved. They lived together, supported each other's careers and interests, and acted in every way as couples would. The idea also made him feel as though he'd hit a dead end.

He wasn't going to be the sort of guy who would go around making rubbish 'ball and chain' jokes once he tied the knot, so the idea of getting married if he wasn't completely sure about it practically made him ill. If he didn't want it with his entire being, he wasn't going to drag Meg down into his unhappiness. A break-up would be a bit messy, especially the way they were always in the public eye, but a divorce would be ultimately worse.

He needed to be positive about it before making a choice he might regret, and if he were to be honest, Gavin wasn't sure that he _did_ want it. It didn't feel right. He wasn't ready, and everyone pushing him towards the decision was in no way making him any more eager to do it.

The stress of it all was practically enough to make him want to tear his hair out. Marriage just wasn't for him yet, but there was no way he could up and _say_ that. Too many people would decide it was their place to tell him just how bad of a boyfriend he was for not going along with it if that was what his girlfriend wanted. 

Not to say that Gavin couldn't handle some twitter hate. He got it often, for anything ranging from his political views, to something stupid he'd said in a video years ago. Mean comments weren't anything new.

The problem was that he _knew_ he was good at his job. He knew that people liked him enough, and generally the hate stemmed from jealousy towards any moderate amount of success. That was just the way it tended to be, so he could brush off those comments and move on.

His relationship's status though, was new. He'd never gotten this far into one before. He'd never had to think about marriage or kids, or anything that could come after. The hateful comments dug a little deeper, thanks to Gavin already having to tread through unfamiliar territory. Each step was like walking through a minefield. One wrong move, and everything would blow up in his face, with nothing he could do to prevent it. He was utterly lost. 

Dating was beginning to bring him more stress than happiness at this point. 

Meg was, of course, still lovely, and it wasn't like Gavin _wanted_ to break up with her, or anything. He just didn't really want to be with her anymore, either.

And that thought was just another layer of guilt added onto the ball of brutal emotions constricting his heart. How could he think such of doing such a thing to his wonderful girlfriend of more than three years, just because he was overacting to what the people around him were saying?

The indecision tugged at him like two ropes tied to his arms, pulling him in opposite directions. He was tearing, and felt like he could snap apart at any moment. Unfortunately, he didn't really know when.

~~~~~~~~~~

The office was unusually loud for the time of day. It was just after 6 o'clock, and by this time Ryan had usually left, and the others in Achievement Hunter were never too far behind him if there was nothing else being filmed late. 

Today though, a Minecraft let's play had gone on longer than they'd planned, and everyone in the room was just now beginning the process of gathering their things to leave for the day.

Gavin was more than ready to go home, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the office door opened, and Meg walked through. She'd been kind enough to offer to pick him up, since she was going to be out running errands anyway. It saved him having to pay for a ride-share, at least.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully with a wide smile as she walked over to stand behind Gavin, resting her arms on his shoulders and leaning over to kiss his cheek. Earlier in their relationship the others in the room would have teased them, but they were so used to it by now, that nobody even cast a second glance. 

"Ready to go?"

"Almost," he murmured, lifting the hand that wasn't using his mouse, and squeezing Meg's hand for a moment. 

"I'll be over here then." She stepped away a few steps, and walked over to sit on the small couch while she waited. 

"Geoff," Jack said suddenly, just as he was about to walk past the desks and out the door. Being so close, Gavin couldn't help but to divert his attention to the man, even though he really needed to finish what he was doing so that Meg wouldn't have to wait for too long.

The man in question looked up to show that he was listening, and Jack continued, "Did you get my email? About being gone for part of next week?"

"For a wedding, right? Yeah, I got it. That's fine." And then, he went back to grabbing his things, obviously eager to leave today.

"Oh, a wedding? Who's getting married?" Meg perked up, and when Gavin looked over his shoulder to see her, he could tell how curious she truly was. She always had been a fan of the whole 'big, white wedding' idea. The thought made him sigh again, and he turned back to his monitor.

"One of my friend's brothers. Wedding's in L.A.," the man explained quickly with a small shrug, a grin, and finally a wave of one hand. "I'll see you guys later."

They bid him goodbye, and the room's occupants slowly started to filter out until Meg and Gavin were the only ones left. It ended up taking longer than he'd planned, but he eventually finished the work he'd been busy with, and gratefully shut off his computer.

"Alright, Love," he said, stretching his arms upwards as he pushed his chair away from the desk. 

"Done?" she asked, looking up from her phone and flashing a soft smile his way. 

He nodded, grabbing his keys and phone off of the desk, before standing and shoving the chair back into its proper place. They walked out of the office together, and Meg retold some of the high points of her day, along with the errands she had finished. Gavin, in turn, talked about the long let's play that had delayed him. 

"What do you want for dinner?" Meg asked, when they'd almost made it to their house. 

He looked over to her for a moment before shrugging one shoulder. "There's chicken, isn't there?"

"Yeah. We can have that." And then, they fell into a comfortable silence that accompanied them the rest of the way home. That was how their evenings often went. Gavin liked to think that it was just having known each other for so long. They no longer felt the need to talk in order to interest one another, and they could just enjoy being in the same room, even if they were each doing their own thing.

But, he also remembered back when they'd first begun dating. They'd talked almost endlessly, always taking up one another's space. It had felt different, like they'd been closer then, even though the relationship had been newer. He wondered if this sudden lax was a normal part of having been with someone for so long.

After all, they were still _happy_. They loved each other and, in general, got along just fine. 

It was just a strange difference that he'd begun to notice.

"Will you help me cook?" she requested as they pulled into the driveway, and Gavin nodded.

"'Course," he hummed, leading the way into the house. With food in mind, neither of them took long to get comfortable at home before occupying the kitchen. Gavin definitely wasn't a cook, so he followed Meg's instructions for the simpler tasks that they both deemed him capable of. Smee and Columbo were there to make sure things were interesting, as they seemed to take a liking to that night's dinner, and attempted to get to it multiple times. 

Even as their meal cooked in the oven, they stood around in the kitchen, continuing their conversation from earlier about their respective days.

"So Jack's going to a wedding? When will he be back?"

"I dunno," Gavin said with a shrug. "He didn't tell me he was going. Middle of the week, I guess." 

"I wonder what kind it'll be?"

"What kind?" he asked, incredulous. A wedding was a wedding. Yeah, the color scheme could be different, but they all were basically the same, once you got down to it.

"Well, yeah. Y'know, a big one, or a small one? Outside or in a church? There are lots of ways to have a wedding, Gav."  She was raising her eyebrow, wearing a leering sort of expression. It was like she _expected_ him to automatically know this, even though she knew it wasn't something he took interest in.

"Well, I wouldn't know much about that," he hummed nonchalantly with a second shrug. 

"Oh, I know." And then, the conversation abruptly ended, and Meg turned her back to crack open the over door, checking on the chicken inside.

He sighed. _Damn_. Wedding talk always led to them hitting a sour patch which, depending on their moods, could last for an unknown length of time. Gavin knew that it was partially his fault, since he tended to be reserved about it, but anytime it got brought up, it always lead to discussion about when _his_ wedding would be.

He was getting tired of people, especially those closest to him, asking. 

"How have the cats been today?" he probed, gently trying for a change of subject that they would both enjoy. Thankfully, it worked, and they eased into another, more agreeable, conversation. 

The wedding didn't come up for the rest of the night, and Gavin breathed easy that he could simply relax with his girlfriend. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, his life at home, and his life at work went the same as usual. They never really changed much, after all. Gavin had stopped expecting them to. He woke up in the morning, with Meg generally still fast asleep, and either walked or called for a ride to Achievement Hunter. 

Once there, they filmed videos, occasionally fucked around with all of the weapons that fans had taken to sending them, or just fucked with _each other_. It was all fun, but it'd lost it's spark. The most engaging conversations he had were fake, hyped up for an important moment in a video. Nothing was really genuine, although he'd gotten damn good at pretending it was. 

He got glances from those in the room whenever he was uncharacteristically quiet, but he resolutely ignored them. _Especially_ if they came from Michael, because the ones from his best friend tended to affect him the most.

It was Tuesday, and Jack had been away for the wedding, when _it_ finally happened.

"So, we're back for some more Rainbow Six Seige, because Jeremy was dying to play it," Michael said into his mic. "And, if you're wondering why Jack's not playing, it's because he's fucked off for a week."

"Half a week," Geoff corrected. "He's at a wedding, or some shit?"

"That's it, yeah," Ryan chuckled, as he messed with the settings, attempting to make sure they were all correct before the game actually began.

Jeremy hummed. "Jack, that guy, loves himself some weddings. He's gone to quite a few, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, he has," Michael hummed. 

"Gavin?" Geoff began, and he grunted in response, the first sound he'd made since the recording started, keeping his gaze on his monitor screen. "When are you gonna invite me to your wedding?"

He gripped his controller tighter. Geoff liked to tease. Geoff liked to push his buttons and probe too far, and after multiple years of living _and_ working with him, Gavin was more than used to it. There was still only so much he could take. "I won't," he muttered, trying to make it sound like a joke, but feeling as though too much of his anger was leaking into his tone.

Geoff didn't seem to notice, or care, though. He kept pushing, laughing to himself gleefully. "You obviously won't, if you never fucking have one. You're running out of time dude. Meg's gonna get tired of waiting."

_Dammit_.

"Geoff," Michael began with a nervous chuckle, like a warning, but Gavin had already had enough.

"You know what, Geoff?" he said angrily, pulling off his headphones with one rough tug. "Shut the hell up. It's not your, or anyone else's damn business whether or not I marry _my_ girlfriend. Keep that shit to yourself, because I'm tired of everyone cornering me and asking when I'm on camera and _expected_ to answer." 

His dam had broken and he'd snapped, so without bothering to shut off his captures, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the office door. The last thing he heard before it slammed shut behind him was a shocked silence. 

He didn't know exactly where he planned on going. The building was often so crowded with other employees that there were never really any unoccupied rooms that he could escape to. His feet settled it for him though, as they carried him straight outside.  The parking lot was bright compared to the darkness of the hallway he'd emerged from, but he squinted and ignored it as he rounded the corner of the building, coming to a more private area with fewer cars. He collapsed down onto the asphalt, his head suddenly heavy as it fell back and hit the wall behind him. 

Gavin took a deep breath, but it shuddered, and it wasn't until then that he noticed the wetness against his cheek. He tentatively reached one hand up, and found his eyes dripping quiet tears.

He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd cried. It had to have been been years. He wasn't generally the type for sudden emotional outbursts, and it'd been so long since he'd felt much of _anything_ , that the feeling was foreign and overwhelming. He must have been crying for a while now, but the realization that it was happening made him suddenly sob, and then he couldn't stop. His chest was tight, he couldn't breath, and he was shaking against a wall, curled up into a ball in a dirty parking lot. It was foolish, scary, and embarrassing, and the thought of someone finding him made the tears flow faster but he _couldn't stop_. 

Why couldn't he stop?

He didn't know how long it took, but eventually his eyes dried and he cried dryly, out of tears to shed. He tried to take a deep breath but his lungs were still tight and it fell short, coming out in something like a gasp. The sobs had slowed though, and Gavin suddenly felt more physically exhausted than he had in months. His limbs, stomach, and chest were all heavy and tired. he reached up and rubbed at his eyes and cheeks, trying to remove the evidence that showed he'd just been crying, though it likely did little to help. He was sure that his eyes would be noticeably red for a long time. 

Giving up, Gavin just closed them, and fell limp against the wall he'd been leaning on. "God, what the hell's wrong with me?" he muttered to the sky. He'd just spent who knows how long bawling his eyes out after his boss - one of his closest friends - had teased him just a little too much. When had he become so sensitive? When had he begun to hate the topic of marriage, or even the thought of it, so much? 

Why was he so fucking messed up? Something was seriously wrong with him. Why couldn't he just be normal, old, Gavin? He'd been fine before he'd begun dating Meg. But, surely, there was nothing wrong with her. It was obviously just him. _He_ was the problem. 

Gavin sighed again, rubbing his hands down his face. The sudden sound of a door startled him and he jumped, knocking his head roughly against the wall. He winced, cursing quietly at the pain, attempting to muffle his own voice in order to listen for whoever had just walked outside.

"Gavin? Where the fuck did you go?"

Fuck, it was Michael. Gavin didn't really feel like being found. He wasn't sure how long he'd been gone for already, but he wouldn't have minded just disappearing for the rest of the day. He didn't want to go back to the office and explain to them all why he'd lost his shit over a dumb joke.

"Gavin, I know you didn't leave! Your phone is still at your desk, asshole," Michael called, and Gavin could hear the footsteps getting louder. 

Michael rounded the corner, and his eyes widened when he saw who he was looking for. Gavin simply winced, turning his head away. He didn't know what to do or how to react right now. It was mildly comforting, at least, that Michael didn't seem to either. He lingered in the same place he'd stopped at, and Gavin heard his feet shuffle, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to come closer or not. 

"Hey, Gav," he eventually decided on, his voice quieter than usual. "We were wondering where you went off to."

He just shrugged. He should probably respond, but making his voice work seemed impossible. After a few seconds of silence, he finally managed. "Been here the whole time," he practically whispered. He'd be surprised if Michael could even properly hear him.

The man startled Gavin then by surging forward, but continued on, seemingly unperturbed, and stood next to him, leaning back against the building. "Are you okay?" Michael asked.

Fuck, that question just made him want to cry again. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his heart, which had begun to race with nervous energy. _Yes_ , yes, he was fine.

"I don't know," he eventually muttered, still refusing to look Michael's way. His mouth felt disconnected from his brain. Why hadn't he just said that he was alright, and made up some bullshit excuse about why he'd yelled at Geoff? It would have been so much easier than telling the truth. 

Michael was silent for a long time then, and Gavin wondered if he even knew what to say. "We deleted the audio and recordings. We'd barely even started so it wasn't a big deal." 

He sighed, nodding once. "Okay." 

Michael didn't respond. Instead, he just stood there, and Gavin found that far more comforting than anything else the man could have done. Just his friend's quiet presence at his side was more than enough for the moment. He could breath easy knowing that he wasn't going to be pressured into talking if he didn't want to.

After a while of them just being there in silence, a notification noise made Gavin glance to the side, where he saw Michael pull out his phone. "I'm going to go back and tell them I found you. Uh, you don't have to until you feel like it, alright?"

Gavin nodded, turning his head back the other way and resting it on his knees. 

"And uh, Gavin? If you, I dunno, wanna _talk_ to me about what's bothering you, then you know I'll listen, right? I want to help if I can." He seemed unsure of exactly how he wanted to phrase his thoughts, and the clumsy way he stumbled over the words made the barest hint of a smile touch Gavin's lips.

"Alright, Michael. Thanks," he murmured. The man knew him better than almost anyone, and always seemed to be able to say the right thing to make Gavin feel at least somewhat better. He definitely didn't feel _good_ , but having the chance to cry, and then be alone with his closest friend's company helped a little. He wasn't sure if he'd ever take up that offer of _talking_ , but knowing that it was there was nice. 

He listened to the sound of fading footsteps, and then the opening and closing of the building's door as Michael made his way back inside. Even though he was alone again, he didn't move. He lacked the energy to do much of anything, really. He'd been caught sitting alone outside after crying like a child, but he couldn't bring himself to care much. He trusted that Michael wouldn't make him sound like a total idiot, and besides, he didn't even know what to say in his own defense, anyway.

He had an urge to apologize to Geoff and the others for getting so mad over something that was obviously meant to be a joke, but at the same time, he didn't want to. He'd much rather just forget that it all ever happened. 

But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay outside. Eventually, someone would find him again, and there would surely be questions _then_. His unwillingness to move was overridden by his fear of confrontation, so he pulled himself to his feet, and slowly walked back inside. 

The entrance hallway was - thankfully - just as empty as the last time he'd gone through it, though Gavin still took quiet steps as he walked. There was a bathroom close by the Achievement Hunter office, and he stopped in there first, leaning over the sink to inspect his face in the mirror. Surely, his eyes were less red by now than they'd been when he'd first cried.

They _were_ , but they had remained noticeably abnormal. He lightly rubbed at them, but stopped when he realized that doing so would probably just irritate them further, and let his arms fall limply to his sides. 

He knew that he was just stalling, and trying to do anything to not have to go into the office and face everyone there. He was worried about what they would say, and how they would react to the way he'd acted earlier. Gavin took a deep breath. 

He could do this. 

To his surprise upon opening the door, the office was empty, save for Michael. He walked in slowly, and pulled the door shut quietly behind him. "Uh, where did they go?" he asked as he walked up to his desk. The screen was different than how he'd left it, no longer open to any game, but instead showing the home screen. Squinting, he noticed that the time read 3:43 PM. He'd been gone for just over two hours now, and that surprised him more than the empty office. It'd felt like so much _longer_.

Michael turned in his chair to face him. "Geoff had to go to a meeting. Ryan and Jeremy went somewhere with a bunch of weapons. I think Gus left a while ago, so they're probably filming something in his office."

Gavin's response was delayed. "Oh. Hope they don't break anythin'." he murmured, pulling out his own chair and sitting down gingerly in it.

"Eh, they probably will," Michael said with a shrug and a light grin. It fell suddenly though, back to a more neutral expression. "I don't think we're going to film anything else today."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Who knows how long that shit with the weapons will take," he explained. "I didn't think you'd want to anyway." 

"Oh. Thanks, Boi," Gavin said with a small smile. The words were hard to force out, even though he was incredibly grateful. He couldn't imagine trying to gather the energy to film anything at that moment, when the only thing he really wanted to do was sit quietly without anyone bothering or asking something of him. 

"Sure, Gav," he replied, smiling back, and then turning away again. The room was left in a peaceful silence, just the two of them there in each other's quiet company.

It was a while - almost an hour - before Geoff came back, and even longer before Ryan and Jeremy walked in, lugging back all of the weapons they'd taken with them. Everyone, upon their arrival, had welcomed Gavin back and asked if he was alright. Geoff even apologized for the comments, and for making him upset. It was nice, and he greatly appreciated all of them showing that they cared, but it was difficult to ignore the blaring in his head that said he was weak for reacting like he had. 

He couldn't work up the guts to just propose to his girlfriend, like good guys do when they care about their relationship, and he couldn't even stop himself from getting in the way of work just because it was a thought he struggled with. 

He just couldn't manage to do anything that anybody wanted. 

The rest of the day ticked by quickly, with Gavin mostly lost in his own head the entire time. He got the feeling that the others were extremely concerned about him, and he couldn't really blame them, but they didn't say anything, so he didn't bring it up. Instead, he just bid them all goodbye and called for a ride-share home.

Meg was there when he arrived, and they talked for a few minutes, but Gavin didn't really feel up to it. She was explaining something about a new costume she'd begun working on, but he couldn't really give her his full attention, and he knew that she could tell. Instead of worrying her, _or_ have to deal with figuring out a way to explain what was wrong, he feigned feeling sick, and escaped to the bedroom. He could, thankfully, make it believable and not get up for the rest of the night, since eating wasn't something that he was interested in when he'd much rather just be sleeping. 

He removed his clothes down to his boxers with slow movements, and didn't bother with brushing his teeth before he buried himself under the covers. The warmth of his bed was a slight comfort, so relaxing his body was easy. Unfortunately, doing the same to his mind was more difficult. He felt _guilty_. He'd practically lied to his girlfriend, unable to let her know why he felt bad. He knew that she, and everyone else were worried, too. 

He just didn't know what to do to fix it. He was trapped in a loop, always lead around by what others wanted. At work, that was easier, since being an online personality and acting for the fans was his job. But, after years of doing it, it was bleeding into his personal life. He felt weighed down, and was struggling to be himself.

He tossed and turned for a long time, uncomfortable in his own mind, before he finally fell into a light sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Gavin woke up for work like usual, and felt tired, despite having gone to bed earlier than normal. Meg remained asleep next to him, like always. Surprisingly, he hadn't even woken up in the night when she had finally decided to come to bed at _whatever_ time she deemed herself tired enough to quit working. Sometimes Gavin wished he could do the same, make his own schedule and sleep whenever he pleased.

Unfortunately, he couldn't, and despite it being the last thing he wanted to do, he quietly dragged himself out of bed and got ready for work. 

He managed to appear somewhat normal the whole day, although he didn't know how much they truly believed the act. In fact, they all seemed to treat him with extra care, speaking softly and choosing their topics more carefully. He couldn't make up his mind on whether or not it pissed him off. It was great not having to hear everyone ask about Meg, or talk about Jack's trip to his friend's wedding. But, it also made him feel inadequate; like a child. Like they thought of him as some ticking time bomb that would throw another tantrum just because things didn't go his way. 

In reality, they probably didn't actually see him that way, but the thought was difficult to toss away. 

The videos they filmed that day didn't contain much Gavin, even though he was playing the same games. Luckily, Michael was talented at carrying a conversation no matter the circumstances, and he kept everyone engaged so much that it almost wasn't noticeable how quiet one voice was. 

Getting home at the end of it all was a welcomed relief, once he managed to get past Meg again. "'M just a bit sick," he murmured, dropping onto the couch and absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. It was a mindless sort of entertainment. Unfulfilling, but the only thing he could find the energy to do. he counted down the hours until it was acceptable to go back to bed, and when the appointed time came he practically sighed in relief, wishing his girlfriend good luck on the work she was doing before making his escape. 

He was sure that the lack of time he was giving to her was upsetting, and despite how much he wanted to _do_ something, Gavin couldn't will himself to, and so he fell again into a light sleep. 

The next day, and the day after that were both just the same. Get up, go to work, go home, and avoid as much conversation as possible while doing it. Jack had returned to an odd atmosphere in the office, with an even quieter Gavin, and everyone trying to tiptoe around him. He seemed to adapt to it very easily, at least. He had always been a very kindhearted man, wise enough to read the air and get a sense of what was happening. 

Geoff, alternatively, had escaped it, going away for the weekend to a chainsaw carving event with Griffon. He had neglected to share that information with Gavin, but he couldn't say that it really bothered him. They didn't live together anymore, after all, and less people in the office meant less things that they could film, anyway. 

Surely though, everyone was beginning to get tired of the way he was acting. How he hadn't gotten punished as an employee yet, was beyond him. _He_ was beginning to get tired of himself. 

Meg obviously was too, for when he got home that night, she was less tolerant of his desires to be alone than she had been previously. 

"Gav, seriously. Please, just come help me cook dinner for tonight?" she asked, her mouth dipping down into a frown as she stopped him on his way to the couch. 

He knew that he couldn't refuse. He'd been neglecting his relationship for too long already. Not talking to Meg now, when she was practically begging, was just going to make her angry, and Gavin knew that she already felt upset. He could at least help with dinner. He'd done it enough times already in the years that they'd lived together. It wasn't _difficult_. 

"Alright," he sighed, following after her into the kitchen. There was already a pot sitting atop the stove, and various vegetables out on the counter, ready to be cut. He hovered, unsure of exactly what she wanted him to do.

"I'm making soup," she said, waving one hand towards the pot, and grabbing a knife with the other, so that she could cut everything up. "You can just stir what's in there for now." 

He nodded, reaching for a spoon and leaning over the stove, trying to peer in and see exactly what he was stirring. It looked like just broth, but it _did_ smell good, at least. His appetite had been lacking lately, but Meg was always a good cook, and the smell made him suddenly hungry. 

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, not looking his way as she spoke. Her attention was still focused on her hands as she chopped a carrot. Gavin appreciated that, at least, since he was sure that looking her in the eye would make this much more difficult. He already knew what she was going to ask. He didn't need to know what kind of concerned expression she was wearing too. He'd feel too guilty. 

"Of course," he simply muttered, standing there waiting. His voice was surprisingly calm, considering that his nerves and emotions were suddenly alight with worry and fear. He didn't know how this conversation was going to go, even if he could easily guess what she'd want to discuss. 

"You've been," she stalled, seemingly unsure of what to say, "quiet, I guess. Quieter than usual, like something's wrong. You haven't eaten a lot, and go to bed early. I just," a sigh. "I dunno, Gav, I'm just worried. Is something wrong? Are you sick?" Her tone was serious, and off-putting, since that wasn't something he was used to coming from Meg.

He was silent for a long time. His initial thought was to push her concerns away, to try and cease her worry. Sure, he was just sick. His stomach didn't feel good, and he'd be better in a few day with rest, that was all.

But that was a lie. And, for some reason, he couldn't force it out. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I'm just tired." That was closer to the truth. He was always tired, and had been for a very long time now. No matter how much he slept, he always woke up with a fogged mind and dulled emotions. He barely felt human anymore. 

"You've _been_ tired. Something's wrong, Gav, I can tell. I just want to help you, and make sure you're alright. I can't do that if you won't tell me what, though. Please, talk to me?" Her voice was soft as she spoke, laced with concern. 

"I," he started, but cut himself off. He didn't know what to say. There was so much, he just didn't know where to start. 

She turned towards him, and leaned back against the counter. "How long have you felt this way?"

"A while," he muttered.

"Do you know why it started?"

He'd never had to put it into words before. It was difficult, trying to think of a way to share his feelings that didn't make him sound so dumb. "People, I guess." He longed for something to do that required a bit more focus than the soup. Instead, he was forced to anxiously tap his fingers against the counter as he spilled his most well kept secret. "People expect a lot and it's," he bit his lip, "It's _hard_ to do what they want." 

"People? You mean like... Achievement Hunter fans?" 

"Sometimes."

"What about other times?"

Gavin, like a child, simply shrugged, his back still turned as he kept his gaze on the stove. It made it easier if he avoided eye contact. He though he heard a huff of breath from Meg, like she was exasperated, but he could have just been imagining things. Still, it made his jaw clench. "Most of the time recently, it's been from people I know," he forced out.

"Is it work? Are they overloading you with things to do?"

"Not really."

This time, she definitely did sigh. "Please, Gavin. I don't know what to do to help you if you don't tell me why people are bothering you." 

There was a familiar feeling of wetness on his cheeks again, and he knew that he was beginning to cry again. "You're not going to help me, anyway," he snapped, his voice harsh, despite cracking on the final word.

Nothing would help, nothing would help, _nothing would help_. They all wanted something, even now as Meg begged him to explain what was wrong, but he _couldn't_ do it. He didn't _know_ why he was so weak, unable to ignore it when everyone told him that he was doing something wrong in his life. And now he was trapped in his own kitchen, cornered and questioned, unable to escape even as he struggled to breathe. He wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away, but was forced to stand, gripping the counter tightly with both hands. 

"Wha- Gavin!" She gasped, sounding as though he'd injured her. Guilt overwhelmed him suddenly, piling on with the rest of the emotions and thoughts that were trying to pull him under to drown. He just wanted to be alone, without anyone to hurt, or to get hurt by.

He wanted it to stop. The guilt, the unhappiness, the pressure, the _fear_ that it'll all go wrong, and then he'll really be left alone to flounder in his mind's sea of inescapable troubles.

He didn't know what he wanted. It was all too much. Too confusing, and he was trapped.

"Nobody can help me, alright? Nobody has even really tried before. Even you, bringing up marriage any time you can, trying to get me to propose! You're pressuring me just as much as any fan who thinks I'm fucking stupid!" He was speaking loudly, though his words weren't coming out nearly as sharp as they could have, considering the fact that he was also practically sobbing.

"Gav, I - I'm not trying to force you to do anything you don't want to," she said, trying to speak calmly, but he could hear tears in her voice too. 

They'd never fought like this.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. "Yes you are! Not outright, because you know that won't work! You think you can eventually convince me, Meg, especially since you know everyone else wants me to do it, too!"

"Gav, please, calm down. Take a deep breath, so we can talk about this."

"So, you don't want to get married?" he asked, completely ignoring her suggestions.

Her voice was small. "Well, yes, I would like to-"

"That's what I though," Gavin interrupted, not giving her a chance to finish the sentence. He backed away from the counter then, turning to walk away and leave the kitchen. He'd heard enough already. He wanted to be alone and stop fucking crying. 

"Wait! You didn't let me finish, Gavin! I know you're not comfortable with the idea, but I'll wait until you are. We don't have to get married right now."

He paused, standing in place, rubbing his eyes with one hand, his other a fist at his side. "What if I don't want to get married?" he asked, his voice harsh. 

She seemed stunned silent, although he didn't turn around to see her expression. "You don't want to marry me?"

"Would you be okay, dating but never getting married?" 

"I-" she began, but cut herself off, and didn't finish. Gavin waited, but after a long silence, he shook his head, tears still flowing.

"Yeah. All anyone wants is a damn wedding," he muttered, rushing forward. He just wanted to _leave_ , and he let his legs carry him to the front door. 

Meg didn't try to stop him. 

With his vision blurred, he grabbed for his keys, simply by habit of doing so every day, and left, slamming the door shut behind him. It was a cliche thing to do, but he took comfort in the loud bang of finality, and the peaceful quiet that followed.

He was alone, and finally he could breathe. The crushing weight of his emotions that all vied for control was still there, but Gavin desperately tried to push it away. He rubbed at his eyes, attempting to rid them of any wetness, but after a few moments, gave up on doing anything. He stood there on his own front porch for a long time, unsure of what to do with himself. He didn't want to go back inside and face Meg, but it was already late, and the sun was going to go down soon.

Even though he'd basically done it to himself, Gavin didn't ever think he'd one day get into a situation where he was unable to sleep in his own house for the night. Where was he going to go? Geoff wasn't in town, so staying in his old home with the Ramsey's wasn't an option. 

There was only one other place that Gavin could think of. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, fingers shaking as he typed out a message.

_Can I come over?_ it read, plain and simple. He waited for a response, idly walking down the street, biting at his bottom lip. He didn't know what he'd do if the answer was no.

His phone buzzed, and he didn't think he'd ever been so nervous to read a text before. _Whenever you want._ was Michael response, and Gavin breathed a deep sigh of relief. He called for a ride immediately, far too eager to leave already. The thought of seeing his friend was the most comforting thought he'd had all day.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He walked up the apartment steps to Michael's hall, and came to a stop in front of the man's door. He waited a few moments, breathing in deeply before knocking. He knew that his eyes were still red, maybe even a bit wet. He'd been unable to relax the whole ride over, and he didn't even want to know what the driver had thought was wrong with him.

His mind had been filled with Meg, how he'd lashed out at her, and how guilty he felt for it, despite that fact that he still felt incredibly tied down and trapped by what she and everyone else expected of him. At this point, he didn't even know what to do. He wanted to feel like his old self again, but it was almost like he didn't even remember what that was anymore. 

He'd been staring down at his shoes, but the door opening startled him into looking upwards, and there was Michael. Concern was evident in his gaze, and Gavin bit his lip. He tried to smile, but didn't think that it came out quite right. "Hey," he said quietly. 

Michael stepped to the side, pulling the door open further to let him inside. Gavin could tell, just by looking at the man's face, that he could see something was wrong. It was probably obvious at this point anyway, though. He likely looked a complete wreck. 

"What are you doing here, Gavin?" he asked, once he'd shut the door behind them. 

Instead of responding immediately, he loitered around the main entrance, as if he didn't quite belong, despite having been to Michael's apartment more times than he could count. "I fought with Meg," he eventually admitted. "I left and... needed somewhere to go."

Michael raised an eyebrow, as if curious, but his voice was gentle as he spoke. "Why were you fighting?"

He took a deep breath, holding it for a few long seconds before, finally, letting it out slowly. "I dunno," he said, shrugging loosely with one shoulder. They shouldn't have at all. Gavin knew that it was his fault, now that he'd had the time to slow down and _think_. "Marriage, I guess."

"Ah," Michael said in understanding, the sound short and clipped. Blunt. It was an out, he realized after a long pause. Gavin was being given the option to not say any more, if he so chose. He thought about taking it and ignoring the problem, despite the fact that he was now in Michael's apartments because of it. 

But, he felt... less pressured by Michael. The man was a calming force in his life, and one of the few that he had left anymore. He'd never realized it before, and it was weird thinking about it now. He'd never known how much he truly relied on the man's presence whenever he felt bad. 

He was the one Gavin would turn to, even before his own girlfriend. The words flowed easier here.

"She was worried about me," he said quietly after a few moments, the words rushed out in one breath. "She was trying to ask me what was wrong."

"And you ended up fighting?"

"Yeah. I - I don't know. I yelled at her. Told her she wouldn't be able to help me."

He heard Michael's sharp breath. "I just keep yelling at everyone, don't I?" he asked with an angry chuckle, his own breathing hitching at the end. 

A hand against his back pushed him in the direction of the couch, and Gavin did as he was directed, collapsing down onto the cushions. the Xbox home screen was up on the TV, and he stared at it as Michael sat down next to him. 

"And then what happened?"

"I, uh, told her that she was -" he cut himself off, shaking his head. He had acted horribly towards her, and now didn't want to admit to it out loud. Michael waited patiently though, never pushing him to say more, so Gavin sighed and continued. "I told her that she was part of the problem. That everyone was pushing me to propose, including her. I asked if she'd be okay never getting married, and she never answered, so I left." 

"Did you give her a chance to answer?" Michael asked, voice gentle, but a seriousness could be sensed within his question.

"No," Gavin replied, after a few moments. "I probably didn't. A damn serious question, innit? But I was - I dunno." He shrugged again. 

"Do _you_ want to get married, Gavin? Everyone keeps telling you that you should, but do you even fucking want that?"

"I - I," he stuttered, looking towards the man in surprise. It was something that he'd never been asked before, and the suddenness - the _forcefulness_ \- of it shocked him. 

"You know, it's okay if the answer is 'no'. It's okay if the answer is 'maybe in 10 years'. Just, honestly. Do you?" 

He was silent for a long time, gnawing at his bottom lip. His brain felt heavy, and his chest was tight again. "I don't think so," he breathed, barely loud enough to be a whisper. It felt relieving to say out loud to someone, although there was guilt there as well. Why wouldn't he want to get married to the girl he loved?

Michael smiled softly, and Gavin's breath hitched again. He tried his hardest to offer one back, although the emotions weighing him down might have turned it into more of a grimace. The man didn't seem to be fazed by it, though. "Can I ask another question?"

Gavin nodded slowly. 

"Do you not want to get married at all, or do you just not want to marry Meg?"

He practically gasped. "What?"

Michael frowned slightly, but it seemed to be one of thought, rather than displeasure. "What about the idea makes you unhappy? Why do you feel so pressured about it?"

"Because everyone is telling me what I should do with my relationship, and I'm not ready for that! It's not their business." 

"So what _do_ you want to do?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know." His words came out slowly, as he thought about each one before he spoke it. "I want to be left alone. Everyone keeps telling me what I should do, and nobody wants to let me decide things for myself." 

Michael nodded, but Gavin noticed that his gaze was off to the side, concentrated very firmly on a blank space of the wall. "Can I give you some advice? You don't have to take it, but I think it might help."

It was odd, hearing Michael speak in such a serious tone. They were good friends, even best friends, but Gavin didn't think that they'd ever had such a heavy conversation before. He agreed, slightly afraid of what he might hear, even though the man claimed it to be beneficial.

"You can do things for yourself." 

Gavin blinked at the words, and the silence that followed them. He waited for more to follow, but there was nothing, and he shook his head in confusion. "What?"

Michael let out a breathy laugh, although it didn't sound like one of humor. "Okay. I just mean, you're letting people run your life for you, Gavin. It's okay to do things that you want to do, even when you're dating someone. You don't fucking have to get married just because Meg wants to. That's unfair to you." He ran one hand over his face. "You're your own person, and it's okay to want something different than her."

"I - I know that. I just -" he stuttered through the sentence, attempting to find what he wanted to say. The words didn't come though, and he was left with a mouth hanging open like a fish's. 

"Why are you trying to force yourself to want marriage?"

"Because," he began, without anything to finish with. His eyes were stinging again, and Michael was waiting patiently for an answer. He found himself wanting to curl up again, like he had that day in the parking lot, so he pulled his legs up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around them.

"It's okay, Gavin," Michael murmured then, his voice as caring as could be.

Gavin _broke_. Michael, the man he'd known for years, who he trusted with everything, _cared_ enough to try and understand his feelings. He didn't push Gavin into things he didn't want. He said that it was okay to be himself.

The words felt so good to hear, and despite still wanting to bottle it up and ignore the problem, he forced the words out. He was too tired to fight it anymore. He'd tasted the relief that came with sharing his burdens, and wanted more. 

"Guilt, I guess," he whispered, wetness brimming at his eyes. "We've been together for three years, and she's always been so willing to put up with me. I didn't care that much about dating at first, and then she just made me go out with her." He paused, inhaling deeply in an attempt to catch his breath, which seemed short for some reason.

"But she was so lovely, and I liked her so much. I was... absolutely amazed that she was still into me, despite it all. I'm always reluctant to do the things she wants, but once she convinces me, it always turns out great in the end."

"And you think getting married will be like that too?"

Gavin shook his head. "Not really. Maybe, but, I don't think so. She's just done so much for me, and we've been together for so long now. She wants it so badly and I just _can't_. I feel like absolute shit because I can't do this one thing for her. A ring and some signed papers, but I can't convince myself to do it, even though I love her and want her to be happy."

Michael was silent for a few moments. "Your happiness matters too, though."

"'Course," he muttered, nodding absentmindedly.

"No, Gav, listen to me. You're dating. It's a relationship. You have to make decisions that both of you can be happy with, not just one. She loves you and wants you to be happy, too. She wouldn't want you to force yourself to enjoy something."

"I know she wouldn't, but -" he sighed. 

"You should think about what you want to do."

"What I want to do?" he echoed, looking Michael's way with raised eyebrows. 

"You're unhappy with your life now, right?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Gavin knew that he didn't have to, anyway. It was obvious, just by looking. "So think about what you want to do to fix that. Anything at all, no matter how stupid, okay? Just think about yourself. Nobody else. No matter what anyone else has told you, it doesn't fucking mean anything now." 

"But I don't know, Michael!"

"That's fine. Take as long as you need to figure it out. You don't need to do anything  _right now_." 

"I - alright," he eventually relented with a small nod, rubbing at his eyes. His hands came away wet, but he ignored them. 

They sat in silence together for a long time as Gavin calmed down. His mind was refreshingly blank, for the first time in a long time. He wasn't sure how long it would last, but it was nice to feel almost _good_ for once. 

"Gavin," Michael began after a while, and he hummed in acknowledgement. "Thanks for telling me all this, and letting me try to help." 

He looked over in surprise. "You, uh, don't have to thank me," he murmured, unsure of what else to say. Honestly, he hadn't expected Michael to be the one doing the thanking. "You're the one listening to me, anyway," he chuckled nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

"I'm glad you let me listen."

"Yeah, well," he trailed off, shrugging nervously. 

Michael scoffed a laugh then, shaking his head. "You can stay in the guest room, if you want." 

"Thanks, Boi."

"I'll get you something to sleep in, too. You _cannot_ borrow my fucking toothbrush, though!"

A small grin touched Gavin's lips then. "But Michael," he protested, "My breath will smell bad!"

"I don't give a shit," he replied instantly, standing up from the couch and walking in the direction of the bedrooms, which were separated from the living room by a short hallway. Gavin didn't follow. It wasn't necessary, since he came back a few minutes later with an old t-shirt - surprisingly not from work - and a pair of thin sweats. "Will these work for you?" he asked, holding them out.

Gavin took them with a nod. "Thanks," he said once again, hugging them close to his chest. 

"Sure," Michael shrugged, seating himself back onto the couch once again. His previously forgotten Xbox had gone into standby mode, so he grabbed for the controller on the coffee table, and turned it back on. 

Gavin silently watched him play Prey for a long time, although he didn't absorb much of what was actually happening. He was lost in his own thoughts; the background noise of the game, and Michael's presence easing him into a comfortable sort of trance. 

He hadn't eaten anything for dinner, but also wasn't bothered by any sort of hunger, even as time went on and carried the evening into night. He _was_ tired though, and eventually pulled himself to his feet, the clothes he'd been given still in his arms. 

"'M going to bed now, Michael," he murmured, causing the man to look up at him. 

He nodded. "You know where shit is." Gavin had, after all, been there a multitude of times. Finding his way around the apartment was as simple as at his own home by now. 

He stopped in the bathroom, and changed his clothes while he was there, before going across the hall to the guest bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, but good enough for Gavin. He crawled under the covers, relaxing instantly in their warmth. 

His thoughts were still crowded with his fight with Meg, and Michael's advice. He tried to consider them both, determined to figure out what it was that _he_ wanted, but nothing was coming to mind, and he eventually gave up. He was too sleepy to try anymore.

He slowly fell asleep to the barely audible sound of the TV from the other room, and surrounded by the scent that clung to Michael's clothes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It felt far too early to be awake when his eyes opened the next morning, and a bleary glace at his almost-dead phone on the nightstand told Gavin that it was an hour before his normal waking time. 

He considered lingering in bed, closing his eyes and falling back to sleep, but memories of where he was kept him awake. He sat up and grabbed for his phone again, and pulled it closer so that he could read the notifications. He had a few emails that needed responding too, as well as several texts and missed calls from Meg. He sighed, considered ignoring them, and then finally unlocked the phone to read them properly. She'd sent a lot through the night.

_'Gav?'_

_'Gavin, where did you go?'_

_'I called Geoff but he said he wasn't home so where are you?'_

_'Please call me back.'_

_'I know I upset you, I'm sorry.'_

_'Did you go to Michael's?'_

_'Call me when you can.'_

_'Love you.'_

Gavin sighed again, and tossed his phone down onto the bed. He'd known that walking out would upset and worry her, but he hadn't even considered checking his phone or letting her know where he'd gone. It had been the last thing on his mind. 

He scratched at the back of his neck, and sat in silence for a few minutes before reaching for the device once again. The messages stared up at him, and his fingers hovered over the keyboard before he could think of what to type.

_"I'm at Michael's, I'm sorry. I'll be home later."_ It was simple, but explained everything that needed to be explained for now. 

As he sat there on the bed, no response came in, but that didn't surprise Gavin much. Meg always slept far later than him, even on days when he woke up at a normal time. 

Alone with his thoughts, he considered the things Michael told him last night. The man had said to think about what to do in order to be happy with his life, but that was a difficult thing to consider. He didn't know.

He should be happy _now_. 

He didn't know why he wasn't. Meg was wonderful, and they got along well together. Work was stressful, especially since they'd gotten so many new fans with new demands over the years. But, it was fun too.

He couldn't do anything about the job, though. They were all working hard, and Gavin had no more right to complain than the rest of them. So, instead, he focused on what he had more say in. He tried to think about why he was unhappy in his relationship, just like he'd been advised. It would help, right? If he could change something and make it better? He tried to think positively, at least.

Why couldn't he be happy with Meg? She was great. They shared similar interests, supported each other's careers, helped one another around the house, had enough money to live happily, and generally enjoyed one another's company. He couldn't say that the sex or anything else intimate was bad, either. So then _why_?

Everything had started going wrong when marriage had been brought into the equation. The idea was something that settled sourly in his stomach. It made him uncomfortable, and the pressure of everyone pushing him towards it was making him crumble. 

He'd never had problems with the idea before, though. He thought it unnecessary and overly expensive, yes, but he'd never been so adamant about refusing. 

Was what Michael had asked last night true? Did he just... not want Meg?

The idea seemed absolutely ridiculous. They'd been together for three years, part of which had been long distance, with barely any fights. Why wouldn't he want to be with her?

He shook his head, almost refusing to believe it. _But_ , he tried to remember what Michael had said. No matter how stupid it sounded, he should at least consider the idea. He could prove himself wrong later. 

At a loss for any other reasons as to why he might be unhappy, he thought about the one he had. 

_If_ he truly was against the marriage because of Meg herself, then what was he supposed to do? He didn't think that he could just break up with her. He had no good reason to do so, and anyways, he still loved her. Ending their relationship would be going too far.

Maybe he could try to convince her to not push the marriage idea. Surely, it wasn't so important that they couldn't get past it? Of course, everyone else in the world would still be pushing for it, which would made things difficult, but at least she would understand? 

That would be enough, right? 

His phone buzzing drew Gavin's attention back to the present, and he glanced at the lit-up screen. 

_'Glad you're okay.'_ Meg had written. 

He smiled, ever so briefly. He was thankful that she wasn't upset enough that she refused to talk to him. He didn't bother responding, and instead took a deep breath, attempting to relax. He'd thought about what might be wrong, but didn't know what to do now.

He was stuck at an impasse of sorts. Talking to Meg seemed to be the obvious solution, but Gavin _did not_ want to explain to his girlfriend how she might be the problem. Especially if it ended up being that he was just overreacting.

Frowning, he dragged himself out of bed. He'd have to think of something sooner or later, but didn't want to do it right now. An uncomfortably nervous feeling was settling into his stomach and chest, and he didn't want to worsen it. 

Instead, he decided to see if Michael had woken up yet. 

To Gavin's great surprise, he found the man awake and in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching the toaster that was plugged in there. "Morning," he said, walking in.

Michael turned to look his way, offering a small smile. "You're up early," he hummed. 

"You are too."

"Gym," was the simple answer he received, as Michael gestured down at his clothing. He was wearing an old shirt and sweatpants. 

Gavin blinked. "It's Saturday."

Laughing, the man nodded. "And? I can workout on the weekend."

"Yeah, but!"

" _But_ ," Michael mimicked, grinning widely. 

Gavin frowned, rolling his eyes. "Bastard," he grumbled, but there was no real anger to his tone.

The toaster popped, and Michael grabbed for the bread. He offered some, but Gavin shook his head and declined. He wasn't hungry. He did, however, reach in the fridge for some water.

"So are you going back home today?" Michael asked. "I can give you a ride, if you want."

"Uh, yeah. I told Meg that I'd be back today so," he shrugged. 

"Are you gonna talk to her?"

Gavin nodded. "I'm going to try, I guess. I thought about what you said."

The man took a bit of his toast. "Did it help?"

He thought for a few moments. "Maybe? I mean. Kind of? I don't know, really," he muttered, glancing down at the floor. 

"Take your time." It was a reminder, and Gavin nodded again in understanding. 

After falling off into an almost awkward silence, they slowly moved into an easier topic of discussion as he sipped his water and Michael chewed his breakfast. A cheerful calm overcame them as they stood around the kitchen together, and Gavin toyed with the strings on his pants as he listened to Michael speak. He'd finished eating long ago, but didn't bother with moving at all, instead choosing to just lean against the counter.

Eventually though, they reached a lull in the conversation, and the man glanced at his phone to check the time. "I was gonna go to the gym. Do you want me to drop you off on the way there?"

"You're asking? Can I just stay here then?"

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Hell no," he replied with a grin. 

Gavin frowned. "Alright, fine," he relented, retreating to the bathroom where he'd left his clothes. He changed back into them, since the ones he was currently wearing were not his own. He'd be able to get into fresher ones once he got back home anyway. 

He knew that the man kept his dirty clothes hamper in his bedroom, so Gavin dropped the sweats and t-shirt off them before walking back out into the kitchen. 

Michael seemed to look him over for a moment. "Ready now?"

No, but he agreed anyways. Just because he didn't want to go home and face Meg didn't mean that he could avoid it. He'd have to do it eventually, so he might as well get it over with. Besides, she was likely still worried, even though he had told her where he'd been. 

He wished that he knew what he was going to say to her. The car ride was silent between them as he thought it over, attempting to think of where to start or how to explain what he might have realized last night. Nothing came to mind though, and as Michael pulled up to the familiar house, Gavin was left with nothing.

"See you later, Gavvy," he hummed. 

Gavin's hand rested on the door handle, but didn't move. "I still don't know what to say to her," he admitted quietly.

"Be honest," was the simple reply he received. "She wants to understand and help, I'm sure. And if she can't, then she'll just have to fucking try."

That, at least, earned him a chuckle, although Gavin's heart wasn't exactly in it. "Thanks, Michael."

"Anytime, Boi."

He stepped out of the car then, and pushed the door shut behind him. He listened, rather than watched Michael drive off as he walked up to the front door. While he hadn't meant to at the time, he was thankful he'd grabbed his keys last night. Unlocking his own door felt far less shameful than having to knock and wait to be let inside. 

It was quiet. He shut the door slowly behind himself as he glanced around the entrance and living room. Meg didn't seem to be there. Likely, she was upstairs in the bedroom or in her office. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and took a deep breath before beginning to slowly climb up them. As soon as he made it all the way up and began walking down the hall, he heard footsteps. 

"Gavin?" Meg asked, emerging from the doorway that lead to her office. 

"Hey, Love," he replied, almost nervously. 

"I didn't think you'd be home so soon." 

He shrugged, rather than explaining that Michael basically forced him to come back so that they could talk. Gavin thought it to be both incredibly insensitive, but also incredibly kind of the man. 

She walked closer, and very suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug. He returned it almost instantly, and they stood there, not moving, until Meg finally pulled away. Although, she kept her hands on his side, refusing to let go completely. 

"We should talk, huh?" she asked gently, and Gavin bit his lip before nodding.

"Yeah."

She smiled gently at him before leading them both back into the her office. She settled herself into the desk chair, while Gavin took to occupying the old bean bag seat that was stuffed into the corner. There were a few feet of space between them, but he liked the distance. He felt like he could breathe.

Silence overtook them for a few moments before Meg blew out a heavy breath. "Why is stuff like this _so_ damn hard?" she complained.

Gavin smiled, almost sadly. "Don't know," he murmured, before sighing. "I'm sorry."

Meg looked at him. "For?" she asked, but it wasn't goading or angry. It sounded genuine.

"Shouting last night. And then leaving without telling you where I was going."

"I forgive you," she said gently. "I'm sorry too. I said the wrong things."

Gavin shook his head. "No, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. I didn't know what the fuck was wrong."

"A bad night?"

"Yeah. It was a bad night," he agreed. 

"How do you feel today?"

"Not much better," he sighed after a moment. "I still don't know, really. Talked to Michael, though. He... helped. Gave advice." 

"Oh? What did he say?"

"That I did too much to make other people happy and didn't do anything that I wanted. He said that I should... think about myself, I guess." He shrugged, as if he hadn't just said anything of consequence. 

Meg looked thoughtful for a while, her gaze drifting to different parts of the room, and never staying focused on one spot for long. Gavin, for his part, favored the floor as the receiver of his attention.

"So what _do_ you want?" she eventually asked, concern, confusion, and curiosity all obvious in her gaze. 

"For everyone to stop expecting me to propose," were the first words that he managed to force out, and he took a deep breath afterwards, as if it had been a great effort. "I just - I dunno - I don't want to marry you, Meg. I'm sorry. I've tried and tried to _want_ it. I looked at rings, and listened whenever you mentioned someone's wedding, but I can't fucking do it. I know you want me to, and I don't even know why I _don't_ , but - " he cut himself off as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Meg was shaking her head.

"It's okay, Gavin," she said, and she smiled, although it was very obviously forced. No matter how much she could want him to be happy, he knew that she'd always longed for a big, white, wedding. 

"Really, it's alright. I want you to be happy. I don't want to get married just for me. It'd ruin the fun if you didn't enjoy it," she said, laughing weakly at her own attempts at joking.

"You're not-" he began, speaking cautiously, "angry? offended?"

"No, no! God, no! Why would I be offended?"

"Because I don't want to marry you? Isn't that offensive?"

"I know you love me, Gavin."

He nodded. "I do. I do, it's just. I'm confused."

"Confused?" 

He was quiet for a long time. Gavin didn't even properly understand his own emotions yet. He had no idea how he could ever tell Meg what he was feeling and make her understand. "I don't want to upset you," he muttered.

"I want to know what you're thinking. You won't upset me." she said, urging him to speak further. He tried to think of a way to phrase it.

"I don't know if... I want _this_ anymore."

"This?" she prompted quietly.

Gavin nodded, refusing to look in Meg's direction as he spoke. "This. Us. I mean, I do love you! I'm happy here. But marriage, or _forever_ seems... impossible. It makes me feel... stuck, and uncomfortable."

Meg was silent for a few seconds, and he was afraid to look her way. "Are you - are you saying that you want to break up?" she didn't sound accusatory or mad, or even sad. Her tone was surprisingly blank.

"No! No, I don't. That's why I said I was confused. I don't know what I want to do, Meg." 

More silence. It was deafening, and wearing Gavin's nerves thin. He was scared to hear what she would say next. "Do you want to test it?"

He blinked in surprise. "Test it? Test what?" he asked, and now he really was confused. 

She hummed. "How you feel. If you're not sure about us anymore, then we should see how being apart feels."

"But I just said I didn't want to break up!" he argued.

"We don't have to break up. Just be apart for a little while. Test the waters. One of us could stay somewhere else for a week or so."

"Is that really the best idea? It's just like... jumping to conclusions, innit?"

"Gavin," Meg began. "I want you to be able to figure out what you want. Staying together just because you think you have to isn't doing anything for either of us."

"I know I don't have to," he grumbled, frowning slightly. He wasn't sure that he liked where this conversation was going. Yes, he'd finally admitted that he didn't want to get married, but he didn't plan on Meg deciding that they should split for a bit. He'd just wanted things to go back to how they used to be, but this seemed to be almost the complete opposite of that. 

"Of course I'm not going to force you to do this or anything!" she said suddenly. "I just... thought it might help you figure out your feelings." She shrugged. 

Gavin was quiet for a long time. Despite how much he desired to decline, how _desperately_ he wanted to reach for the normality he missed, he couldn't deny that she had a point. He was at a loss for knowledge about his own feelings. He couldn't even say for sure that he wanted his own girlfriend anymore. It was, at the very least, something they could try. They were doing it for their relationship, after all. There was no harm in that, right?

Eventually, he sighed. "Alright. Let's try it."

Meg smiled gently. "Okay."

"Who's keeping the house, then?"

"Well, I don't know. It's only for a week, so it doesn't matter too much."

Gavin thought for a minute. "I could go back to Michael's? He can take me to work anyway, and then you can stay here."

She nodded. "That works. I can just get together some new cosplays while you're gone."

Their conversation was peaceful, calm, but there was a tenseness behind it that was enough to make them both uncomfortable. Gavin knew that, despite talking it out like adults, admitting that he wasn't quite as interested as he once was had taken a toll on their relationship, and Meg herself. He felt bad about it, but at the same time, he was simply relieved that she'd attempted to understand, and had even offered a way to truly figure things out.

She really was just too good for him.

"You should talk to Michael and make sure he's actually alright with harboring you for a few days," Meg teased, although her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"Right you are," Gavin murmured, standing from his chair and pulling out his phone as he walked into the hall, giving Meg a small smile before he went. His phone had died since he'd last looked at it, so he retreated into the bedroom where his power cord was, and plugged it in. The wait for it to turn back on seemed too long and too short all at once, but eventually, he was able to make the call. Hopefully, the man was finished at the gym, or at least taking a break between exercises. 

The phone rang multiple times, and Gavin was afraid it would go to voicemail before - _finally_ \- Michael picked up. "Gavin?" he asked, sounding a bit breathless. He must not have gone back home yet, then.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat when he found that his voice sounded weak. 

"Are you okay? Did you talk to Meg?" 

"I did. She was very... supportive. It went better than I though it would," he chuckled nervously.

"So what are you calling for, then?"

"We're gonna be... _apart_ , I guess, for a while."

The line went impossibly silent. "Wait," Michael said suddenly, his voice hushed as if he didn't want the people around him to hear. "Did you guys break up?"

"No. Not really."

More silence. "Okay? That's all I get?" he asked incredulously. 

Gavin chuckled. "She said that we should spend a week away from each other so that I can figure out how I feel about her." 

"Oh. Damn."

"Yeah. Can I go over to yours for a while?"

"Yup." The reply was almost instant, and Michael's willingness made him smile. "Let me know when, so I can pick your ass up."

"Are you at the gym?"

"Yeah?"

"Get me when you leave, then."

"You don't want to stay for a while?" Michael asked. "You just saw me, Gav, no need to be so eager.

He snorted at the man's joking. "Nah. Besides, I'm not that eager. You'll be gross and sweaty."

He heard quiet laughter. "Seriously. I won't be here much longer. You really want to now?"

"Please?"

"Alright. See ya soon then, Gav."

"Thanks, Michael!"

After hanging up, Gavin let his phone fall onto the bed next to him and stood, before returning to the office where Meg was still sitting. She didn't look like she'd moved since he had left. She looked up as he walked in. "What did he say?"

"He's coming to get me once he leaves the gym."

She looked surprised. "Really? That's sudden. You haven't even packed yet!"

"I know. I'm going to in a minute."

"I didn't think you'd leave so soon," she murmured.

"Do you not want me to?"

"It's fine. I just didn't know," she sighed with a light shrug. "Come one," she pulled herself out of her chair, "I'll help you."

Gavin smiled softly at her as she walked closer. "Thank you, Love," he said, meaning more than just for the packing. 

Meg, at least, seemed to understand. She lifted herself up on her toes to press a quick, gentle kiss to his mouth. "Of course," she hummed. He pulled her close into a hug, and she returned it easily. They stood there for a long minute before, eventually, pulling away.


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin, by all accounts, found that his general interactions with Michael didn't change much, even though they were currently living in the same apartment. In fact, the only thing that seemed different was that they were just spending _more_ time together. They went to work together, came home together, and then hung out after work together. 

They were in each other's company a lot nowadays. 

But, he didn't find himself tiring of it. Even after seeing each other multiple hours a day for over five years, adding more to that was like nothing. If anything, it simply made him crave Michael's presence more whenever the man wasn't around. 

He'd gone away from his own home for a week to think about Meg and his relationship, but if he were to be truthful, Gavin hadn't thought much about her at all. They sent each other texts every once in a while, making sure they were both doing alright, but beyond that, she wasn't on his mind. Especially since after his breakdown at the office, everyone had been reluctant to mention his relationship _at all_.

Nobody knew his current living situation either, and he planned to keep it that way. Michael was, thankfully, more than amenable to helping out. They never mentioned where Gavin was really going when they spit out the excuse that he was just borrowing a ride to his own home. 

He liked it like this. He hadn't put much thought into it over the week, but even his first night staying with Michael had been easy. There was no transition, no arguments, and no real big routine differences to disagree about. They fit together easily. 

Perhaps Gavin should have expected that, since they'd known each other for so long already, but seeing each other at work or at a bar was vastly different from living together. They were always _there_ , in the same space.

Truthfully though, he didn't mind. Michael's near constant company, rather than causing distress, was calming. He felt as though he could honestly be himself around the man. After all, he'd been the one to find Gavin mid panic attack, _and_ he'd been the first one to hear why it had happened. 

There wasn't much of anything else that Gavin could hide from him. And besides, Michael always seemed so good at reading his emotions that it would probably be pointless to try.

He wasn't sure if that was a talent, or if they just knew one another too well. 

"Do you want to play some kart tonight?" Michael asked, as they were on the way to his apartment Thursday evening. "Lindsay and Andy were saying they wanted to. Might set up a tournament or some shit." 

"I'd love to beat you all in Mario for a while," he replied in lieu of a proper agreement. 

Michael snorted. "Like hell you'll beat me. Andy and Lindsay, probably, but not me."

"You don't know that, Michael! I'm good at Mario."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let you win."

"Well, you're not _letting_ me do anything," Gavin laughed. 

A sideways glare and a badly disguised smile were the two things he got in response as they arrived back at the man's complex, and he grinned broadly at the sight of them. He stepped out of the car and hurried to the front door before he could be called out on it, though. 

Unfortunately, he didn't have a key, and ended up facing the consequences of his actions anyway. "You're an idiot," Michael laughed, waving the keys around for show before pushing Gavin aside and unlocking the door for the both of them. "Allow me to _let_ you inside."

"That's different," Gavin huffed, refusing to admit defeat. "We were talking about Mario."

"All's fair, Gavin," the man teased, a wickedly pleased grin on his face. 

"Is this love, or war?"

"Well obviously it's both," he replied almost instantly, tossing his keys and wallet onto the kitchen counter. 

"So you'll let me win, then? Because it's love."

"I don't think that's how it's meant to work. Also, fuck no." 

"Damn," Gavin grumbled, collapsing onto the couch. 

"So you do want to play, then?"

Gavin looked over to where Michael was still standing, and nodded his head. "'Course. Whenever they get around to it, I'll play."

"Cool. I'll let Lindsay know then. She'll probably be the one setting it up." 

"As if Andy would do it," Gavin scoffed.

Michael wore a pleased grin. "I know," he chuckled in agreement. 

Gavin, settled comfortably now, watched as the man stood there, absorbed in what was on his phone screen. It was enrapturing to see the slight changes in facial expression, whether it be a raise of his eyebrows from surprise or disbelief, or the way he blinked quickly when trying to focus on something.

He looked up then, and seemed almost startled that he was being stared at. "What?" he asked.

The was a beat of silence. Gavin didn't have an answer beyond 'I just like looking at you', and that certainly wasn't something he could just _say_. It was weird. So, he shrugged, trying to make it appear noncommittal. "You're just standing there."

"So?" he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Well sit down or something!"

Michael laughed. "Alright, fine," he said, walking around the couch and dropping down on it next to Gavin. "Better?"

"Yes," he replied, still watching as Michael leaned forward to grab the TV remote. With no plans for the majority of the night, they were left to fill the time with Netflix until Mario Kart began.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I told you that I wouldn't let you win!" Michael cheered as he dropped the Switch joycon onto the couch before grabbing for his beer and taking a long drink from the bottle.

"I wasn't drunk enough, it doesn't count." 

"It absolutely fucking does," Michael said with a grin. He pulled Gavin closer with one arm, as if being nearer to one another would rub in the loss even more. He leaned into the touch though, and didn't make any attempts to pull away. The man was warm against his side, and his grip was firm. 

After a few long seconds, Michael released his hold and sat up, leaving Gavin to support his own weight again."Maybe next time, Gavvy," he practically cooed.

"Oh, shut it," He grumbled, forcing the grin off of his face. He looked at the time then, and frowned slightly. "'M'tired," he said.

"All of a sudden?" Michael questioned.

"Nah. It's late," he said in explanation.

"Go to bed, then."

"Are you going to?"

Micheal raised his eyebrows. "Do you need me to go to bed with you?" he laughed.

Gavin blinked. "No?" he replied, after a moment of silence that seemed a lot longer than it should have.

"I will in a few minutes," he said, gathering up the controllers and shutting off the system. The room's sudden silence was easily noticeable, weighing heavy around them, and Gavin simply nodded. Their drinks were all gone, so he gathered up the bottles and tossed them out before biding Michael goodnight and retreating to the bathroom, and then the guest bedroom. 

His suitcase lay open on the floor, the clothes inside messily tossed around after having been dug through for multiple days. He pulled out a clean t shirt and changed into it before stripping the rest of his clothes away down to just his boxers. 

He crawled into bed, pulled the covers up close and shut his eyes, but sleep did not come. He wasn't full of any excess energy, but his mind was still lightly buzzed from his drinks earlier, and his thoughts were racing too fast for any proper rest.

Mostly, they were centered around Michael. Gavin _missed_ him, and the feeling stuck out like a sore thumb, considering how they'd only been away from one another for less than an hour, and were still in the same house.

It was not a way he was used to feeling in regards to his best friend. Yes, he enjoyed Michael's company, and was always happy to see him again, but he'd never missed him so sourly. 

The feeling of longing that settled in his gut reminded him of what it had been like when he'd first begun dating Meg, and had ached for her company near constantly. He had, after all, always been a clingy and tactile sort of person with those he was close to.

The comparison, however, made him bolt upright. 

He was _not_ dating Michael. In fact, he was still with Meg! He had no reason, and no right to _want_ his friend in the same way he'd wanted his girlfriend. 

What was perhaps even more unsettling though, was that he had only just now realized how he didn't really feel that way for Meg anymore. Being away from her for so long was an odd break from routine that he wasn't used to, but while he did love being around her, he didn't _miss_ her. He wasn't aching to go back home, just so that he could see her again. 

The surge of guilt was suddenly back in full force, and it made Gavin sick to his stomach. He couldn't accept it. He refused to.

He loved Meg. He wanted her. They'd been together for years now. He couldn't just break up with her because he liked Michael a little bit.

But, as he sat there, he couldn't ignore the truth. It came unbidden, forcing it's way to the front of his mind, along with years of memories to support itself. He _loved_ Michael. The fact that he hadn't realized it until now made him feel like an absolute idiot, but he knew that it was true. They'd known each other for five years, and he might have loved him all along. 

But Meg was there, waiting at home for his return. She was his girlfriend, his companion; the one he'd promised to love forever, despite his reluctance for marriage. He couldn't leave her.

Not for his best friend. 

Gavin thought of Michael; his smile, his laugh, his ruthless vocabulary, his anger, and the deep kindness behind it all. 

He thought of Meg; her bold confidence and humor, her pretty eyes, her loud voice, and her compassion. 

It was as if he was attempting to compare them, but unable to do so. It was pointless, anyway. They were so different from one another, and Gavin cared about them both more than he could ever say.

The thought that he might have feelings for the both of them made him feel like  jackass, but realizing that he was pitting them against one another in his mind made him feel like the biggest dick imaginable.

He was awful, and he hated it. 

He'd never even considered Michael in that light before. Who was Gavin to compare him to Meg so suddenly? 

Groaning, he fell backwards against his pillows, throwing one arm across his eyes. "Fuck," he grumbled, angry at himself. 

Once the idea had formed into his mind though, it wasn't so easy to force away. Despite the highly improbable chance that Michael would even _want_ him, Gavin thought about it.

He thought about living here in this apartment permanently, going to work and coming home together, eating dinner, and going on dates.

It was a slippery slope down a rabbit hole that he'd never be able to climb out of once going too far. 

His chest was tight again, dammit.

He sighed. It was... fruitless, he realized, attempting to tell himself that he was stupid for thinking about Michael that way. He wasn't capable of denying himself what he wanted anymore, especially since he'd apparently been denying it already for years. The dam was cracking, and it was all seeping through.

He could, however, tell himself that he was the most horrible boyfriend on the planet who didn't deserve anything that Meg had ever offered him. She'd given him everything, and he'd just half-assed their entire relationship, only to realize that he _apparently_ didn't want it at all.

He really was a piece of shit.

Michael said it all the time, and maybe he was only joking, but Gavin knew it was true. He didn't deserve to date anyone. He was obviously bad at it, and bad at feelings. He'd dug himself a grave of miscommunication and lies, and had no way of getting out without _someone_ getting hurt. 

He didn't get much sleep that night. But, he did come to one conclusion.

He couldn't date Meg anymore. 

Gavin loved her so, so much, and even considering breaking up with her caused his stomach to roll, but he couldn't do it. Spending time with Michael and realizing how much he longed for the man made him realized how much his relationship with her had been lacking. He just didn't feel the same desires.

It was likely that they were just never meant to date. They did so well before everything had gotten serious. It was their friendship that he truly enjoyed, rather than the romance, really. 

Coming to terms with such an idea was... difficult. But, doing so lifted a weight off of his shoulders that had built up so slowly, Gavin hadn't even realized it'd been crushing him. Suddenly, he could breath.

The thought of telling anyone was truly more frightening than he could bear, but admitting it to himself was a long needed relief. 

He needed to tell her. Despite his reluctance, it wasn't something that could be kept hidden, for the sake of both of them. She deserved better than to remain shackled to someone who wasn't entirely interested anymore, and Gavin could no longer handle the stress of pretending.

He didn't want to fake things. He was going to take Michael's advice, and do something for himself for once. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite being exhausted from a lack of sleep, Gavin pulled himself out of bed once the sun had risen reasonably high in the sky. He longed for coffee or an energy drink, and something else to occupy himself besides his own mind. 

The kitchen and living room were both empty, which was mildly disappointing. He'd hoped Michael would be up already, but then, it was pretty early still. He had time yet, and would just have to wait for the companionship he craved.

Instead, he made his coffee, and scrolled through Twitter and Youtube. One of the Slow Mo Guys videos had hit five million views, and he smiled in appreciation. This one had had a rather slow upwards crawl. Maybe he'd tweet about it later. 

His mug was almost empty when he heard footsteps walking down the hall. "You're up early," Michael said, and when Gavin turned to glance at him, he was wearing a concerned expression.

What, could he not just wake up extra early because he felt like it?

Instead of saying so, though, he nodded. "Couldn't sleep. Needed coffee," he said with a shrug. 

Michael, who had changed into jeans and a regular t shirt already, opened the fridge to rummage through before saying anything. "Something wrong?"

"I was thinking about Meg. I'm... I'm gonna go and talk to her today."

There was another long beat of silence. "You're gonna go back home, then? You worked everything out?" He didn't turn and face Gavin as he spoke.

He chuckled, despite himself. The assumption seemed so surprising, he couldn't contain the laughter. "Uh, not exactly." He took a deep breath, and gulped down the last of his coffee. Somehow, it didn't have the same effect as if it had been alcoholic, and no rush of bravery came from it. "I think I'm gonna break up with her."

There was a loud clatter as Michael roughly slammed down the cup he'd just grabbed from the cabinet. "What?" he asked, clearly shocked and spinning around to face Gavin with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

Gavin wasn't sure if Michael was unhappy or not with his words. Truthfully, the man's only expression was one of outright surprise, and nothing else could be read from him. "Yeah."

To Michael's credit, he didn't try to dissuade him from that answer, and instead just nodded slowly. "You're sure? Like, really fucking sure?"

"Yeah," he repeated quietly, swallowing the lump that had settled in his throat. It was... difficult to admit out loud, even to Michael, who already knew nearly everything. _nearly_. Gavin couldn't tell the whole story. Not yet, and maybe not ever. 

"Well," the man said, before cutting himself off, as if unsure what to say next. "You'll still need a place to stay then, won't you?"

"What?"

One eyebrow raised. "You live with her, Gav. Are you gonna just stay there after breaking up with her?"

"Oh." To be honest, he hadn't even thought of that. He hadn't thought of much of anything beyond realizing that he needed to admit the truth to her.

"Fucking figures," he scoffed. "I guess you can just stay here then, since you haven't put any thought into _that _."__

__Gavin beamed, although it didn't feel quite right. "Thanks, Michael."_ _

__"Whatever." He waved one hand, dismissing the thanks._ _

__"Michael," Gavin cooed, determined to tease him properly, now. He wanted the normalcy. "You're so nice to me, Michael."_ _

__"Shut the fuck up and get ready for work, asshole." The grin that he so desperately tried to hide was infectious, and it was no time at all before they were both smiling widely._ _

__This closeness between them was the best thing that Gavin could have ever asked for, and despite his worries about talking to Meg, and about his newfound _feelings_ , he walked into work in a good mood, determined to make sure that it didn't fade. __

__~~~~~~~~~~_ _

__"What do you want me to do?" Michael asked that evening as they walked through the parking lot together towards his car. "Are you going back home to... talk to Meg?"_  
_

__"I should, shouldn't I?"_ _

__"Yes." was the immediate response. "You really fucking should."_ _

__"Guess so, then," he mumbled, yanking open the car door and climbing inside. "I haven't told her yet. That I was coming back today, I mean." It was pointless rambling. What could _Michael_ do about that? It was his own fault that she didn't know. _ _

__"It'll be fine," he replied gently._ _

__"Hope so," Gavin said before the car was shrouded in a heavy silence. He liked it, though. He didn't feel up to making idle conversation when a very difficult one loomed ahead._ _

__Eventually though, he had to face reality, and as the car slowed to a stop in front of a very familiar house, his chest got tight. His breathing shuddered, and he ran his hands over his face. "I don't ever know what to say," he said, laughing bitterly._ _

__"The truth." Damn him, for being so bluntly truthful and... right all the time. "She'll understand, Gavin. You just have to tell her how you feel, and give her a chance."_ _

__"Where did wise Michael come from?" he asked quietly, attempting for a joking tone._ _

__"He's been around," the man shrugged. "Now get out of my car, please."_ _

__"Alright, alright," he reluctantly grumbled as he forced himself to climb out from his seat. The walk up his own driveway was the most uncomfortable he'd been in a while. Gavin could feel how tense his own muscles were, and how stiff his posture was._ _

__He'd kept his key when he'd left for the week; Meg hadn't asked for it, and he hadn't felt the need to give it up. He hadn't, after all, ever planned on doing this. He remembered being so adamantly against splitting, and yet here he was, having done a complete 180° on his own thought process._ _

__It seemed so sudden, that he still doubted himself, and wondered if he was making the wrong choice after all. But then - and maybe it was selfish - he thought of Michael. Living with Michael, _being_ with Michael, and he realized how unromantic his feelings for Meg had been all along._ _

__With a bit more confidence, he unlocked the front door. This time, upon opening it, he was greeted immediately. Meg was there, looking his way and sitting on the couch with a show paused somewhere in the middle on the TV._ _

__"Gav, hey," she said. "You're here early."_ _

__He nodded slowly, and walked further into the living room. He wasn't smiling, and the happy expression she'd been wearing fell away. She didn't speak, although she could probably guess what he was going to say without waiting to hear it._ _

__He gulped. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, shaking his head. He took a deep breath though, and continued. "I think that... we should break up."_ _

__He could tell that Meg wasn't happy. She looked devastated and the _guilt, guilt, guilt_ was back, but then she was standing and walking quickly Gavin's way. He gasped when she wrapped her arms around his sides and pulled him close for a hug. Of all the things he'd expected her to do, that hadn't exactly been one of them._ _

__"I'm sorry too, Gavin. I knew something was wrong, y'know. Things just... weren't right anymore. And I was worried but I didn't do anything because I didn't know _what_. I should have asked sooner."_ _

__"I should have told you anyway." It was the truth. Despite Meg not asking, she couldn't force him to do anything. He should have been able to confide in her. "I _do_ love you. I just... I dunno. I think only as a friend."_ _

__She laughed suddenly, but it sounded like she was crying. Gavin couldn't check though, since her face was mostly buried in his shirt. "That sounds like the most cliche breakup line. 'We can still be friends'."_ _

__"That's not what I meant," he mumbled, frowning slightly._ _

__"I know what you meant." She pulled away then, and looked up towards his face. She _was_ crying. "It was fine when we weren't so serious, but then we were, and you realized your feelings weren't the same, right?"_ _

__Gavin nodded, eyes wide. She'd managed to explain in just a few seconds what he'd seen as terribly complex._ _

__"It's fine. I get it, Gav. We can be cliche and be friends if you want but," she inhaled sharply, and it shuddered. "But not yet. I - it's too much. I'm upset and just. Sorry," she said, shaking her head and wiping away the tear that fell._ _

__"M'sorry, Love," he said quietly, his heart clenching as he watched her cry._ _

__She shushed him immediately. "Don't. I get it."_ _

__There wasn't much else to say to that, so Gavin simply nodded. It felt awkward now. To be honest, he wasn't really sure what to do at this point. This had been his longest relationship, and he'd just ended up, but he didn't know anything about what came next._ _

__"Where are you going to go, then? Back to Michael's? What about this house?"_ _

__"Oh. You can have it, if you want. You need the room to work anyway, right?" he shrugged. Honestly, the house meant nothing. They'd bought it together, and it was a nice memory, but Gavin had never been overly attached to it. It was likely far more important for Meg to have it._ _

__"Seriously?"_ _

__"Yeah. Take it. Use the space. I can go back to Michael's."_ _

__"Will you have room there, though? Gavin, you know you don't have to move out immediately, right? I won't toss you out."_ _

__"I won't leave immediately," he said, although he did want to leave as soon as possible. It didn't feel like it would be good for either of them if he were to linger around. "It's a big apartment though, it'll be fine."_ _

__It was quiet for a long time, then. "You'll be happier living there, right? You've looked so... empty lately."_ _

__He blinked. The question had caught him off guard. "It's not your fault-" he began, before Meg cut him off with a shake of her head._ _

__"Just. Honestly? Please?"_ _

__"Yes," he practically whispered. "I will."_ _

__"Okay. Okay. Then that's good enough."_ _

__Despite her words of support and understanding, Gavin could tell that this was too difficult for her to handle. He didn't blamer her one bit for it, either. She put on such a strong face, despite being so upset. She was amazing, and he felt horrible for having lead her on for so long just to break up. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked, as gently as he could manage._ _

__She was still for a moment, before finally nodding._ _

__He didn't exactly have anywhere to go at the moment that was outside the house, and he wasn't quite ready to completely leave yet, so he took refuge in his own office on the upper floor. He would need to look through and gather the things in there, anyways._ _

__The idea of moving out was a strange one. He hadn't really planned on ever having to pack up his things again. Not for a long while, at least. But here he was, looking over camera and recording equipment and attempting to focus on the best way to transport it all, rather than the fact that Meg was likely crying downstairs._ _

__He _wanted_ to comfort her, but he'd lost the right, considering he'd been the one to hurt her. _ _

__When he'd grown bored of sorting through wires that were never a mess in the first place, he reached for his phone. He'd gotten a message, he realized then._ _

__It was from Michael. 'Did you tell her?' it read._ _

__He hesitated before writing back, even though his reply had been delayed already anyway. 'Yes.'_ _

__He only had to wait a minute. 'Did she understand?'_ _

__He huffed under his breath. 'I think so.' He sends that, before stopping to type out something else before Michael could reply and point it out himself. 'You were right.'_ _

__'Damn right I was.' Gavin couldn't resist shaking his head at that. 'But that's good. Do you feel better now?'_ _

__'Yeah, loads.' Finally having his feelings out in the open, and at least somewhat understood, was a huge relief._ _

__There was a long break between messages, and Gavin kept himself occupied by scrolling through Twitter._ _

__Eventually, a notification popped. 'So are you moving in permanently, then?'_ _

__'Can I? It's your apartment.' he wrote quickly._ _

__'If you want.'_ _

__Gavin smiled down at his phone. 'Then I guess I am.'_ _


	4. Chapter 4

Gavin didn't think that moving just _his_ belongings from the house to Michael's apartment would be difficult, but it had been. It'd taken a whole week to pack everything up properly, and multiple trips to transport it all. He'd never noticed how much stuff he owned and needed before.

The entire week had been tense. They hadn't shared with anyone the news of their breakup yet, so acting normal if anything relating to Meg came up was tough. 

Being in her company was hard, too. She said she just needed time to come to terms with it all, and Gavin understood that, but it made being in the same house with her awkward and uncomfortable. They talked but it just... wasn't the same. Most of the time, he'd just kept to himself in a different room, throwing his things together.

In the end, he was glad that he was finally able to leave. He'd lingered too long, and they both needed the space to get over this, now.

Finally, after the last box had been brought in and piled into the guest room - now his bedroom - he collapsed onto the couch. "I'm exhausted."

"You're fine," Michael scoffed, offering a beer that he'd pulled from the fridge, and taking a sip of his own. 

"But the stairs, Michael! Why do you live on the second floor?"

"Just be glad you didn't bring any furniture." 

"Yeah. I can just use all of yours instead," he said with a grin.

"Lucky you," Michael said, laughing lightly. 

They talked happily as they drank the fridge's beer supply, and the conversations flowed easily from videos that they should film at work, to the games that they were playing, and then finally onto the dumb things they'd done and said while playing in the past. A lot of memories tended to stem from trying to be funny in the office for a recording, they found. 

"Jeremy is never going to let you forget about that," Michael teased. It was obvious to see that the alcohol had settled into his system. A light flush of red was high on his cheeks, and Gavin smiled whenever he glanced over. 

"He's gotten everyone in on it now, though," Gavin pointed out.

"It's fucking dumb," he said, but it was easy to see that he found humor in it anyway. " _Bucket._ "

"Everything I say in videos is dumb."

"Yes, but people like it. You say a lot of that shit on purpose anyway," Michael said with a scoff. 

"Some of it," Gavin clarified. "fifty-fifty, really."

"I don't think so," he laughed, shaking his head as he took a long sip from his bottle. "The 'bird noises' are usually legit, but the stuff you say is crap. Totally exaggerated." 

"Nah," Gavin drawled the word out, before pausing. "Does that mean you think I'm smart?"

"Oh, shut the hell up," he grinned.

"No, Michael, really!" he whined, blinking at Michael, and trying to tease a proper response out of him. "Am I smart?"

"A real fucking genius, Gav."

"Aw, that's not a proper answer! C'mon."

He sighed, relenting. "Yes, you're very smart," he said, rolling his eyes. "Is that enough for you now?"

"Well, I don't know. You can keep going," Gavin laughed. 

"Absolutely not. You're smart, and that's all you're getting." His voice was firm and harsh, but the expression on his face betrayed him. It was soft, and open.

"Do you want one in return?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" he asked, his tone disbelieving, but Gavin nodded, wearing an excited smile. "Go ahead, then."

He made a show of placing his beer down on the coffee table, and then leaned forward, putting his face much closer to the man's own. It was silent for a moment, before he finally hummed, as if in thought. "You're very kind, even though you're supposed to be the 'Rage Quit' guy."

Michael blinked, and being this close up, Gavin could clearly see the movement of his throat when he swallowed. "I think I'd be a pretty fucking awful person if I was always rage quitting."

"People would rage quit _you_ ," he giggled, unable to resist the stupid joke, and earning a heavy sigh from the other man in the process.

"Shut the hell up," Michael said, pushing Gavin away to the other end of the couch. "That was awful. You've ruined the compliment."

He gasped. "What? No I haven't!"

"You did. Now I need a new one."

"That's not fair, Michael. I didn't get a second one!" Gavin complained, frowning slightly.

"Too bad," he shrugged. 

"I take it back, then. You're very mean."

Michael laughed. "Do you want to find somewhere else to live?" 

"No, no, no!"

He was still grinning widely, obviously pleased with himself, even though Gavin pouted at him. "Alright, then. Shut the fuck up," he chuckled. 

He complied, at least for the moment, and didn't mention his friend's horrible temper again that night. Instead, he allowed himself to relax into the fun of playing videos games together, and getting truly, properly 'bevved'. He likely wasn't going to lose anything important in the morning, but he'd still drank enough for the alcohol to do its job properly. 

It loosened his muscles, as well as his nerves, and by late into the night, he was laying out on the couch, leaning far into Michael's side and using the man's shoulder as a headrest. His arms and the grip he held on the controller were lax, but he still managed to move his character around. 

"How can you even see like that?" the man questioned, although he didn't turn his head to look. Gavin was glad for it. If Michael had moved his head, it would probably have jostled his own into an uncomfortable position. Besides, he'd only have gotten a view of hair, anyway. 

"M' not blind," he replied simply.

"You're going to hurt your neck," he chuckled, and this time he did turn his head ever so slightly to the side. Gavin doubted he could even see properly, and was probably looking out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm comfortable, though."

"You're making my arm fall asleep."

Gavin paused for a moment. "I'm comfortable," he repeated, smiling self-satisfactorily. 

He only got a moment's peace before Michael dropped his shoulder and leaned back, sending Gavin into his lap. He gasped in surprise, now blinking up at the man's face. He looked very pleased with himself. 

"What about now?" he asked.

Gavin shuffled around for a moment, wiggling ever so slightly to put his neck at a better angle. "I'm not _uncomfortable_ ," he said. 

"No?"

"Nope. I could fall asleep right here," he laughed, shutting his eyes as if to prove his point.

"You're not a cat," Michael scoffed. "Get up if you're gonna fall asleep."

"You're the one who put me here," Gavin reminded him, cracking his eyes open just slightly so that he could see properly. Were his cheeks a little red? Sober Gavin might not have noticed, or elected to pretend he didn't, but right now he was drunk, and drunk Gavin had no problems with bringing it up. "Michael, are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his tone.

"What? No," he denied instantly. "Get the fuck up, please." 

"But you are!" he insisted. He was curious. If Michael was blushing because Gavin was laying in his lap, and not just from the alcohol, then he wanted to probe and push for that information. Seeing that hint of pink made him feel... hopeful. He'd thought he might have to come to terms with his _feelings_ , and just go on being a friend. If that wasn't true, then he wanted to know.

He was afraid of pushing too far and losing the chance entirely, but he was feeling brave. "C'mon, Michael. You're all red," he continued.

Michael was, however, uncharacteristically silent, and didn't quite meet Gavin's gaze with his own. 

Instantly, Gavin's demeanor softened. He realized that this was something serious, and he was going about it the wrong way. Teasing wouldn't work for this. _That_ , above all other things, should have been something he understood. He was the same way, after all, and Michael had noticed immediately.

He sat up, as requested, and turned on the couch so that he was properly facing the man. "Are you really blushing?" he asked, his voice much gentler than before. 

Michael still seemed reluctant to talk, though. He shook his head and grumbled, "shut up."

"Seriously, Boi. I'm curious. I'm not gonna make fun of you, or anything."

"Ugh. Yes, alright?" he finally said, turning his head to the side so that his face wasn't visible to Gavin anymore.

"Because I was laying in your lap?"

More silence. "Yes," he muttered, sounding almost angry. Perhaps it was frustration, or even embarrassment, though. 

Gavin bit his lip, his face scrunched up slightly as he thought. His face felt a little warm now, and perhaps a blush of his own had begun to show. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, and letting his hopes get too high. After all, Michael had never really shown any signs of interest in him before. Sure, they'd always been close, but they were just friends. Gavin had no reason to assume that the man would actually _like _him. Someone laying their head in your lap was a bit intimate, no matter who it was. That was probably the only reasoning.__

__And yet, he couldn't help himself. "Why?" he questioned, his voice quiet._ _

__Michael waved one hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Gavin," he said, but it sounded like he was just trying to brush the topic away. He was avoiding it._ _

__"Why don't you want to talk about it, Michael Boi?" he asked, using his favorite nickname for the man in the hopes that it would push across his sincerity._ _

__"Because it's not important."_ _

__Gavin pursed his lips, dissatisfied with the answer. "It is."_ _

__Michael frowned then. "Why?" he asked, finally turning his head to look at Gavin again, despite how obviously uncomfortable he'd been with it just seconds prior._ _

__"I just," he began, before pausing. To be honest, his main reasoning was entirely selfish, and unlikely as well. He was also reluctant to share any of it, due to the high chance that he was completely wrong. There was no way that Michael really liked him. "You helped me out with all my shit and I - I don't know." It wasn't a very good explanation to give._ _

__"I don't think this is really the same as that."_ _

__"How?"_ _

__Michael made a noise of disbelief. "You just broke up with your long-term girlfriend, Gavin. Me blushing because you're laying on my lap isn't even in the same fucking realm of problems."_ _

__Gavin huffed. "It's important to me, okay? _You're_ important to me." Thank God for alcohol. He would have never gotten the courage to say that if he wasn't somewhat drunk. _ _

__Michael blinked, seemingly shocked, and Gavin counted that as a win. There was a long beat of silence before, finally, the man licked his lips and began to speak again._ _

__"It was nice, alright? I fucking liked it, and that's why I blushed. Fucking happy now?"_ _

__Gavin was almost frozen in surprise. Michael... _liked_ it? That couldn't be right. "You- You liked it?" he repeated, as if hearing the answer again would make it any clearer. He doubted that it would, but his brain was struggling to think of anything else to say._ _

__"Yes. Unimportant, alright? Don't worry about it," Michael began rambling, attempting to brush off his own confession._ _

__That, at least, helped Gavin to focus properly again. "No, no, it's important," he insisted. His body moved of it's own accord, and suddenly his knees were under him as he turned to the side, and he was leaning forward closer to Michael. He was also much taller at the moment, but he ignored the sudden dramatic change in favor of the conversation. "You really, honestly liked it?" he asked, eyes wide._ _

__Michael's blush wasn't fading anytime soon, and he looked as though he'd been unprepared for things to go this way. He wasn't alone. Still, he nodded. "Yeah," he said, his voice nervous and unsure._ _

__It was enough for Gavin, though, and he leaned in to roughly press their lips together. It was off center, very uncoordinated, and Michael's mouth had been opened slightly from talking, but it was _perfect_. It was a fitting first kiss for the two of them. They didn't really fit together at all, but that was what made it wonderful._ _

__After a few moments, and Gavin's insistence, Michael recovered from the shock of it all. He moved his lips properly, turned his head a bit to the side so that they fit together better, and then they were really kissing._ _

__It was everything Gavin could have wanted, and nothing he ever thought he'd actually have. Michael's lips were dry against his own, but he moved them skillfully. It wasn't the deepest of kisses, but it was rough and fast, and as they pulled away, Michael tugged at Gavin's lower lip with his teeth._ _

__They were quiet for a long time, simply sitting there, close enough to lean in and kiss again if they wanted to. Unfortunately, they didn't._ _

__Michael was the first to break the silence. "Your beard itches," he grumbled, and Gavin laughed loudly, pulling away to finally put a bit more distance between them._ _

__"Sorry, Michael," he said, smiling widely._ _

__"You kissed me."_ _

__"Was it alright?"_ _

__Michael raised an eyebrow. "Do you really need a skills evaluation right now?" he asked, his face furiously red._ _

__Gavin couldn't help but to laugh again, although his voice trembled slightly with worry. "No, I was- I mean, was it alright to do that? To kiss you?"_ _

__"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was fucking great. But why?"_ _

__He turned his head to the side, confused. "What do you mean?"_ _

__"You just broke up with Meg. Are you okay kissing me now?" He stopped, as if finished, but then suddenly continued again, like he'd thought of something else. "Actually, why are you kissing me at all?"_ _

__"Huh? I want to." Wasn't that a little obvious? He'd been the one to initiate it, after all._ _

__"Yeah. Why though? Why do you want to?"_ _

__Gavin gulped. "I like you."_ _

__Michael seemed taken aback by the words. Admittedly, saying you liked someone laying on you, while a bit intimate, was very different from saying you liked _them_. "What? Really? Are you serious?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"What- But... you just broke up with Meg! Are you even into guys?" Michael seemed to be flustered, rather than angry or upset, and Gavin took that as a good sign._ _

__"I haven't felt like that about her for a long time. As for guys, I dunno. Never had one I was into before," he said quietly._ _

__Michael paused. "Wait, how much do you like me, Gavin?"_ _

__"I don't know," he said, giving the most truthful answer he could. "A lot, probably."_ _

__"You- ugh," he said, shaking his head. "You're something else," he eventually muttered, but there was a small smile on his face, open and honest._ _

__Gavin felt relieved. He'd been desperately worried that Michael would push him away out of discomfort, and that wasn't something he would have been able to handle. He'd asked so much of the man already, and was even welcomed into his apartment permanently. He couldn't mess that up just because he hadn't been able to control himself._ _

__He was beyond thankful that Michael only seemed to be embarrassed. Even if later, this never happened again between them, Gavin could be happy knowing that their friendship wouldn't be ruined._ _

__Although, the night's mood had shifted to one of awkwardness. He wasn't sure how to proceed anymore. The kiss had been an impulse decision, and he'd had no plan going into that._ _

__"I'm very drunk," he muttered, and Michael leaned back in a sudden burst of laughter._ _

__"Yup," he agreed._ _

__"I mean it though, Michael. You're bloody top and-" he trailed off, realizing that the man was looking at him with an expression of amusement. "What?"_ _

__He shook his head, although the expression didn't change or disappear. "Nothing."_ _

__"Something," Gavin said with a huff, the corners of his mouth shifting downwards. He didn't really like that Michael was keeping secrets while he was spilling his feeling _again_ , but the man seemed content to keep quiet on whatever he'd been thinking about. _ _

__"You are very drunk," Michael eventually said._ _

__"so are you."_ _

__"Unfortunately." Gavin was about to ask what he meant by that, but then lips were on his again, before they were gone as quickly as they'd come._ _

__"Michael," he gasped, completely caught off guard._ _

__"Gavin!" he mocked "What, I can't do it to?" he asked before standing up. "Goodnight." Then, he made an immediate escape for the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, giving Gavin no chance to respond properly._ _

__He sat there on the couch, staring at the point Michael had disappeared to, blinking wildly. His cheeks were burning red again as he licked at his lips. Minutes later, when the man didn't return, Gavin decided that it might be best to return to his own bedroom for the night as well._ _

__As he changed into nightclothes, he wondered why Michael had left so suddenly but, he supposed that kissing your best friend could be embarrassing and difficult to deal with. He was having a hard time believing it himself. He'd somehow gotten the courage to _do _it, and miraculously, it hadn't resulted in anything uncomfortable. He'd gotten positive results.___ _

____Michael had liked it! He initiated a second kiss, and even though it'd been short, it was soft and meaningful._ _ _ _

____Gavin couldn't stop thinking about it._ _ _ _

____As he climbed into bed, he drifted off into the most restful sleep he'd experienced in a while, and had wonderful dreams to accompany him throughout the night.____

___~~~~~~~~~~_ _ _

___The next morning, to Gavin's displeasure, there was no mention of the kissing, or last night's conversation. Everything was very _normal_. He wasn't extremely bothered by that, but it left him feeling confused about where he stood. Was he allowed to kiss Michael again if he wanted, or had it been a one night thing that they would just ignore? _  
_  
_

____Too nervous to even ask, he simply followed along with Michael's example, and didn't bring it up again. There didn't seem to be any rift between them, so he was fine leaving things as they were for now._ _ _ _

____They went about their morning as usual, before leaving to work. They were only slightly late, considering that Gavin had forgotten to unpack the majority of his clothing, and had needed to search through boxes for something he could wear. Michael had enjoyed laughing at him while he'd thrown things around in his room._ _ _ _

____Michael had also found some sort of humor in the way he'd floundered for an answer that day when they were both cornered by a curious Geoff, who wondered why they'd left together every day the past few weeks. Gavin had to admit that it was probably suspicious. Normally, he ordered a ride share or, on occasion, was picked up by Meg._ _ _ _

____He'd planned on keeping quiet for a bit longer until he and Meg got back on better terms, and he had settled in more at Michael's, but instead he ended up spilling the truth. He didn't share everything that had happened, but Geoff of all people deserved to know that they were no longer together._ _ _ _

____Geoff was shocked to hear it, and that was understandable, but he had also been very supportive. He even apologized again for making so many jokes about marriage. Gavin told him not to worry about it._ _ _ _

____He then spent a good hour brooding in Michael's direction for the laughter._ _ _ _

____Michael apologized, gently brushing his hand down Gavin's arm._ _ _ _

____Gavin blushed._ _ _ _

____Encouraged by Geoff's support, he shared the same information with the rest of the office. They all responded in kind, offering their own encouragements as well. Gavin was grateful that nobody asked any questions about how, or why. Maybe they didn't want to pester him, or maybe they could somehow already figure out the answer, he didn't know. It was fine though, just the way it was. He could freely speak about living with Michael now._ _ _ _

____However, he didn't let anything be said while recording. He was weary to let any information slip to their fans. He just _knew_ that he'd catch hell for breaking up with Meg once they found out. Sure, some would be understanding, but a lot would not. He wasn't ready for that, yet. Just telling his coworkers - his friends - had been hard enough. _ _ _ _

____Michael sat next to him as they ate lunch, and said he was glad Gavin had told them all. He was _proud_._ _ _ _

____He was flushing brightly again, but the man's grin was practically contagious as he tapped his foot against Gavin's own._ _ _ _

____It was... odd. In a way, things were normal. But, they had also seemed to change. Michael was so much _closer_ with both his words, and his body. _ _ _ _

____He still called Gavin a 'fucking idiot', and told him that he was 'the stupidest shit on Earth', just like normal, but he also was much more open about whenever he was happy about something Gavin had done. He offered support much more freely._ _ _ _

____He was also much more open and giving with his touches. None of them were particularly intimate, but whether it was to grab Gavin's hand to pull him in a particular direction, or to lean over his shoulders whenever they were looking at something on his phone together, Michael was so much _closer_._ _ _ _

____Gavin figured it was a product of the kisses, since it just began happening after the fact. But, he couldn't really figure out why Michael never mentioned it at all. Maybe he was simply too embarrassed or nervous to say anything, but he held out hope that the man would eventually._ _ _ _

____But, despite his hopes, _nothing happened_. _ _ _ _

____The days wore on and a new constant developed over time between them. The close contact remained, and it became something that Gavin grew used to, and now expected. He knew Michael's fingers would linger on his arm, or that their knees would often end up touching if they sat next together, which, happened often._ _ _ _

____He couldn't say that he didn't like it. But, he also couldn't deny that he longed for a bit more. They'd both admitted to liking the kissing, so what wasn't it happening more? Despite his own frustration though, he was determined to wait for Michael. He didn't want to push too far, or force the man into anything he truly didn't want._ _ _ _

____Instead, he busied himself with other things. Living with Michael had reduced a great deal of his worries, since the stress of an unsuccessful relationship wasn't something he had to deal with anymore. Meg had even rekindled their old friendship, and was now a common guest of their's in the apartment. Sometimes, he would go back to his - now just her - house to visit the cats and Penny. He did miss the little things._ _ _ _

____Often they'd play Mario Party, or Mario Kart together. Lindsay or Andy would occasionally join in too, and things finally felt _normal_ again._ _ _ _

____Eventually, the news of their split had gone out to the general public. Gavin hadn't exactly been ready for all the backlash yet, but he and Meg had both decided it was time to tell. They didn't share every detail, but it likely sounded a lot better coming from the both of them personally, rather than being spread as a rumor._ _ _ _

____And he had been right. A lot of people had disagreed with it all, and had no qualms with sharing their thoughts on the matter. It was surprising though, how many _did_ speak out with words of support or encouragement, and defended them both against all the hate. It reminded Gavin how he actually did love the community he was surrounded with. The bad voices and all the pressure still got to him, and he doubted that it would ever stop, but he was glad that at least Meg and Michael both understood that now. It was nice, having the two of them around. _ _ _ _

____Michael, especially. The man had seemed to take an special interest in making sure that Gavin was as happy as possible. He took joy in evoking mushy feelings and dark blushes, and would often grin widely and laugh cheerfully whenever he saw them._ _ _ _

____It was all horribly unfair, and Gavin took pleasure in every minute of it.____

___~~~~~~~~~~_ _ _

___"Michael," Gavin began, swinging his body to the side on the couch so that his head could be in the man's lap. He had found that after the night they'd kissed, he liked to lay this way. "Michael, do you like me?"_  
_  
_

____They were both drunk again. With neither of them having to go anywhere at the end of the night, it was all too easy to reach for the alcohol when they were just sitting about the apartment, fucking around. It was fun. Michael made stupid drinks with whatever he could find in the fridge. His main goal always tended to be to make Gavin vomit, and he'd almost succeeded on multiple occasions._ _ _ _

____The drunker they got, the more ridiculous they would act. Gavin had made several dumb bets on video games, or by daring Michael to do something horrendous. He probably lost more than he won, but thankfully the man rarely ever asked him to pay up._ _ _ _

____He also, when drunk, got more free with his affections. He'd been able to rein in his desires while perfectly sober, or even just a bit tipsy. However, the more he drank, the looser his hold on himself became._ _ _ _

____To be fair, though, Michael was the exact same way. They both initiated physical contact regularly, but while drinking, they were on a whole different level._ _ _ _

____He didn't exactly like it. He didn't want to need alcohol to lay on the man, or to say that he liked him. It seemed... unfair. As if it was somehow something that needed to be kept up under wraps. And yeah, maybe he wouldn't exactly want anyone to find out about it right away, but couldn't they at least be open about it with each other?_ _ _ _

____"Michael," he whined, his question having gone unanswered for far too long._ _ _ _

____"Yes, Gavin."_ _ _ _

____"Huh, really?" he asked, peering up at the man's face._ _ _ _

____He chuckled. "Fucking really."_ _ _ _

____Gavin smiled happily at the confirmation. He was glad, at least, that Michael liked him, even though he didn't show it in quite the way he longed for. Maybe he was just greedy and asking for too much, though._ _ _ _

____"Why don't you ever show it, Boi?" He was probably going too far. He shut his eyes, worried that the question might make Michael uncomfortable somehow._ _ _ _

____"What? Show it how?" the man asked, sounding very confused. "We're together all the damn time."_ _ _ _

____"I know. I just - I dunno," he eventually muttered, unable to find the words to properly voice what he wanted to express. He wondered still, if there was a large gap between their definitions of the word 'like'. Perhaps Michael just meant it in a more platonic sense, rather than a romantic one._ _ _ _

____Gavin also couldn't help but worry that the man was simply uncomfortable with the idea of being together. Maybe he thought that it hadn't been long enough since he'd split with Meg. Some people thought that jumping from one relationship right into another was strange, right?_ _ _ _

____But then, it'd been a few weeks now, and Meg had come a long way in moving on. Maybe he was simply overreacting. After all, they _had_ gotten closer over that time._ _ _ _

____He was just being too impatient. Too eager._ _ _ _

____"What do you want, Gavin?" Michael asked gently, tugging lightly at some strands of hair._ _ _ _

____Gavin cracked one eye open, and swatted the hand away from his head. "Nothing," he hummed._ _ _ _

____Michael scoffed, disbelieving. "Not nothing. You've got a look on you're face."_ _ _ _

____"I don't have a look!"_ _ _ _

____"A fucking big look. You absolutely want something, so what the hell is it?"_ _ _ _

____He wanted a lot of things. He also didn't want to ask for most of them. "We should sleep together."_ _ _ _

____It was the spluttering noise from above that made him realize he probably should have phrased that a little differently. His cheeks grew red and he immediately shook his head. "Wait, no! That's not what I meant! In a bed. We should sleep in a bed. Together."_ _ _ _

____Michael, after he was finished being shocked by the first statement, seemed to find the situation humorous, and laughed. After a few moments, despite his embarrassment, Gavin couldn't help but to join in._ _ _ _

____"Why can't you sleep in your own bed, Gavin?"_ _ _ _

____"Aw, Michael! Don't you want to sleep... with me?" he asked, one corner of his mouth turning down at the phrasing again._ _ _ _

____"I mean, I won't say no, but-"_ _ _ _

____"Then we should! C'mon, it'll be nice."_ _ _ _

____"Do you really want to that bad?" Michael asked, raising one eyebrow in curiosity._ _ _ _

____"Yes."_ _ _ _

____"Uh, alright..." the man relented after a few moments. The quiet way it was said was a bit off-putting, but he chose to focus on the words themselves._ _ _ _

____Gavin practically gasped, an excited smile growing on his face. "Really?"_ _ _ _

____"If you want to," Michael chuckled lightly, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand._ _ _ _

____"I definitely do," he nodded, sitting up and lifting himself to his feet. "Let's go, then." Now that'd he'd gotten the permission for this, Gavin was too impatient to wait. Besides it was getting late anyway, and they'd had enough to drink. He'd wake up with an awful hangover if he had anymore alcohol tonight._ _ _ _

____"Wait, right now?"_ _ _ _

____"Yeah!" He laughed, pulling Michael up from his seat. They stumbled backwards a bit, their movements horribly uncoordinated, but managed to catch each other and avoid falling. "Let's go to bed, Michael," he said cheekily, winking at the man. It fit the words perfectly._ _ _ _

____"But, Gavin," he protested vocally, although he allowed himself to be dragged off in the direction of the bedrooms. "There's still stuff we need to clean up."_ _ _ _

____"Tomorrow." he insisted, bringing them towards Michael's room. There was no way he didn't have the most comfortable bed. After all, Gavin's was technically only meant for guests._ _ _ _

____"You're cleaning it," Michael eventually grumbled, finally giving up on doing anything beyond going straight to bed._ _ _ _

____"Deal," Gavin laughed, and collapsed straight down onto the mattress. He'd been right. It was definitely more comfortable. He shimmied up towards the pillows, thankful that he'd changed into pajamas earlier in the night, before they'd begun drinking._ _ _ _

____Michael, however, had not, and Gavin watched as the man removed his jeans, leaving himself in only boxers and a t shirt. It was a good view._ _ _ _

____"Come on, Boi," he said, finding his way underneath the covers as he waited. "M' tired. I've wanted to sleep like this for ages."_ _ _ _

____Michael's expression softened, but he still lingered for a moment before, _finally_ , crawling under the covers next to Gavin. They were face to face, and he smiled brightly, pleased to be where he wanted after all the waiting. Michael grinned back at him._ _ _ _

____"Well, goodnight then, Gavin," Michael said with a gentle huff, leaning to the edge of the bed to turn the nightstand light out. The room delved into darkness, and a very comfortable quiet._ _ _ _

____"Night, Michael Boi," he said, before the silence surrounded them once more. It didn't feel quite right, though. He was too tense. Tentatively, he shuffled forward, until he was lightly pressed against the other man._ _ _ _

____He could hear Michael breathing close to his ear, but he remained still. Eventually though, to Gavin's great delight, and arm snaked it's way over his waist and pulled him closer._ _ _ _

____It was there that they fell asleep, with their bodies pressed together, and the comforting weight of Michael's arm holding him in place. It was horribly romantic, and wonderfully perfect._ _ _ _

____Gavin fell asleep quickly, and didn't stir or wake for the rest of the night. He hoped that Michael was sleeping just as well, and just as happily as he._ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically all smut~ c;

Gavin woke to the soft movement of a chest pressed up against his back, and gentle puffs of breath tickling his neck. There was a dull pain throbbing in his head, but a hangover wasn't anything he hadn't already gotten used to over the years. It wasn't that bad of one, anyway. 

It was tolerable enough that he ignored it, instead choosing to focus on the arm hanging across his waist. It's weight was heavy, but comforting as it kept him flush against the man behind him. 

Despite moving in weeks ago, and a tentative 'more than friends' relationship having bloomed over that time, they still had never really made any moves towards sleeping together. Finally, this was the closest they'd gotten to anything truly romantic beyond their first two kisses, and those had simply been spur of the moment things; never repeated. He thought he was content with the way things had been between them lately. He had been happy enough to not ask for more. 

It seemed though, that being drunk gave him a bit more confidence, and Michael had somehow been unable to resist. 

Why that was, Gavin would never be able to understand. He clearly remembered practically pushing the man into his own bed, forcing them to lay together. It wasn't exactly the smoothest of moves, but it had apparently gotten the job done, as they'd stayed cuddled together throughout the night.

He sighed, attempting to gently roll onto his other side without disturbing the man sprawled out over his waist and against his back. It didn't work too well, as he heard a distinct, irritated grumble that meant Michael was slowly coming awake. 

Now though, having already moved, Gavin could clearly see the furrowing of brows and the other shifts in Michael's facial expressions before, _finally_ , he opened his eyes, squinting.

It was cute, seeing him without his glasses and wearing such an innocently confused expression. Gavin couldn't help but to grin happily at the sight.

"Morning," was the first word out of the man's mouth, followed by a small yawn.

"You let me sleep here," Gavin returned, in lieu of a proper greeting.

Michael frowned then, tightening the arm he still had wrapped around Gavin's waist. Somehow, it hadn't slipped off while he'd shuffled about. "You didn't give me much choice, did you?" he asked, voice rough with sleep. His tone seemed light and teasing though, and it fit well with the small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fuckin' forced me to lay here with you."

A light pink dusted at Gavin's cheeks then, and he chuckled bashfully. He hadn't been anywhere near drunk enough to forget last night, and it brought forth a rush of embarrassment at how insistent he'd been. 

He even remembered whining about how he'd wanted to sleep in the same bed for _ages_ , and suddenly, he wanted to duck his head in the pillow and hide away.

Gavin didn't though, as Michael's gaze drew him in, and kept his full attention. "Sorry," he finally said with a quiet voice, unsure of what else to say. 

Michael chuckled. "Don't be. I guess I'm the one who should apologize, huh? I've kept you waiting for _so long_." He was teasing, Gavin knew, so he only nodded in reply. 

Truthfully, he wanted so much more than just sharing a bed. They'd already kissed; an event that had sent sparks flying through him, lighting up his nerves until he'd been hyper aware of every place Michael touched him. It'd been a wonderful feeling, and he only craved more. 

He didn't want to rush this though. If he was too eager, pushing too much and bringing them too far, he ran the risk of losing Michael. That was something he couldn't take. Gavin worried his bottom lip, and was only made aware of it when, very gently, Michael was tapping at it with one finger. 

"What's wrong?" the man probed, a worried look on his face. 

He shook his head lightly, unsure of what exactly to say. It felt wrong to hide from Michael though. He'd already spilled all of his fears and worries, and even the struggles of his longstanding relationship to the man a long time ago. He and Meg had suffered from a lack of conversation and understanding. So, now that he was just beginning to become closer to Michael, he wanted to make sure that they didn't make the same mistakes.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked instead, rather than trying to force out words that wouldn't come. Hopefully, his true meaning would be understood anyway. He wanted the closeness, the intimacy. Laying together was nice, and Gavin could be satisfied with just that. But, he and Michael had always been comfortable with this sort of contact, so even though the meaning behind it may have changed, the way that they were touching had not. 

He wanted _more_. The heat and the rush.

Surprisingly, the first reaction he received was a snort of laughter. Confusion crossed over his face, until Michael dissuaded it with a shake of his head and a happy grin. "Gav, you don't have to ask," he murmured. "Please, fucking kiss me."

His lips formed a gentle 'O', before he was leaning forward, grabbing onto the man's night shirt to pull him closer, and finally pushing their mouths together. 

It was a soft kiss, quite unlike the sudden roughness of their first. He didn't feel rushed to pull away this time, and could instead indulge in the slow glide of their lips against one another. 

He felt Michael's mouth twitch upwards, the sure sign of a smile, and he couldn't help but to pull back and flash one of his own. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. 'M Just happy. Back to the kissing," he muttered in short, clipped sentences before trying to pull Gavin in again.

Pleased by the words, and more than eager to continue, he easily followed the man's guidance and pressed their lips back together. Their kisses were lazy and slow glides, taking pleasure from the knowledge that they had all day, and even longer after that.

Eventually, spurred by the desire to find a better angle, Gavin grabbed at Michael's arms and rolled them over so that the man was on his back, and he was leaning over him. His arms, one on each side of Michael's head, supported his weight so he wasn't crushing the other's chest. 

Michael's breath came out in a rush at the sudden change in position, and his hands grabbed for unnecessary purchase on Gavin's shoulders. "What're you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows raised and a teasing glint in his eyes. 

I'm getting comfortable," he replied with a wide grin, lowering his head to kiss lightly at the corner of Michael's mouth. 

Gavin leaned back quickly and gasped in surprise - practically yelping - as Michael sat up and grabbed one of his thighs, tugging it over his lap. Now in a straddle position, he subconsciously shifted his hips, and they both breathed out loudly at the pleasurable sensation. Michael fell back against the pillows again, and rested his hands on Gavin's waist, rubbing small circles over the thin shirt fabric with his thumbs. 

He rested his hands against Michael's chest to hold himself upright, and gazed down, studying the man below him. "Well," he began, "Now I'm even more comfortable." He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly, but kept his hips achingly still. He wasn't sure how far Michael planned to go with this.

Michael scoffed. "That was the point. Now get the fuck down here,"  he muttered, trying to pull Gavin's face closer.

He followed, keeping one hand on the man's chest for balance, but letting the other run up into his curly hair. This kiss was no more rushed than any of their previous ones, but their position added a new layer of heat to it, and Michael's mouth opened easily, allowing Gavin's tongue to slip inside. It was lazy, wet, and _good_ , and the rush of it all swept him away until he'd been rotating his hips against Michael's without even noticing it. 

He broke away with a quiet gasp, forcing his hips to still as he looked over the man below him. Michael's mouth was slightly open as he breathed, cheeks flushed, lips slick and red from kissing. The idea that his own face likely looked the same, by Michael's own doing, made him want to push his hips down again. 

The man stared at him, one eyebrow raised in a simple question. _Are you gonna stop?_

Truthfully, Gavin had no desire to stop this. Not now, not ever. It was sappy and far more romantic than he'd ever admit out loud, especially since he'd never experienced the same intensity of this sort of feeling with Meg. But, he would gladly spend all of his time in bed with Michael, talking, joking around, and chasing after their own pleasure together. 

He could have that. Today was their's to waste. And, while neither of them were even close to virgins, if they so chose to continue, then this would be their first time together. That felt special, and Gavin wanted to selfishly hoard his joy and excitement away, so that he could remember it later.

Oh, he wanted this. But, he needed to make sure that Michael wanted it too. So, he slowly rolled his hips once, studying the man.

Michael's eyes fluttered closed, and a sigh escaped his lips as he pushed upward to meet Gavin in the middle. It was a deliciously rough contact, buffered by their clothes, but good just the same.  

"God," Michael huffed, tightening his grip where it held at Gavin's hips. He used it as leverage then, to push himself up into the touch a few more times, slow but deep. "God, Gavin," he repeated, "can I fuck you?"

Gavin almost moaned at the words, but bit his lip and nodded instead. "Yeah, fuck. Please," he whispered, grinding his hips down as Michael pushed upwards. They were both definitely hard now, pressing up against one another as they sought for friction like horny teenagers. 

In a rather surprising show of strength, Michael quickly flipped them, and Gavin shouted in surprise as his back thudded against the mattress. He heard gleeful chuckling, and he narrowed his eyes at the man above him. "What?"

"You're screaming," Michael laughed.

"Well, you're tossing me around, you bastard," Gavin huffed in reply, frowning slightly. 

Not fazed, Michael simply leaned down and lightly pressed their mouths together again, a hint of a smile still on his lips. Gavin's hands moved to frame the man's face, keeping him in place so that he wouldn't pull away too soon. 

"Lift your hips," Michael murmured, their lips brushing against one another with each softly formed word before he leaned up and sat back on his heels, giving Gavin room to move.

He took a few moments to notice and appreciate the prominent bulge pushing against the man's boxers, before complying with the request. He planted his feet to raise upwards as Michael toyed with the thin fabric of Gavin's pajama pants, slowly sliding fingers underneath the waistband. 

As his fingers slowly traveled further down, tugging the fabric with them, Michael raised an eyebrow. "No boxers?" he asked.

Gavin, who'd been thoroughly enjoying the soft, teasing touch, hummed in confirmation. "Don't really need them, do I?" After all, he had pants on instead. It was Michael who needed the boxers, since they were the only thing he was wearing besides an old t-shirt. 

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Nope," he replied, before resuming in the slow slide of pulling the pants down Gavin's legs. 

Michael didn't waste time to stare or touch until _after_ he'd rendered Gavin completely naked, and rid himself of his own shirt. While pleased that there was now less clothing in the way, the Brit was almost achingly hard at this point, and desperate for some actual contact. "Come on, Michael," he whined, sitting up and reaching for the man in an attempt to pull him closer. 

While Michael did follow the hands grasping for him, he made his own path, mouthing at Gavin's neck and chest. The parts that were slightly less covered in hair, that was. He made sure to pay extra attention to any area that seemed sensitive, especially his nipples, and didn't show any reservation about leaving marks.

Gavin's left hand was making a fist into the sheets, while his right was gently tugging at Michael's hair. He lifted his head from where it was laying on the pillow to stare at the top of the man's head. "Michael," he urged, pulling lightly on the strands. 

Looking up in response to the tugging, Michael cast a rather devious look. "What?"

"Quit bloody teasing me," he grumbled, getting impatient. He wanted to touch Michael too, not just lay back without doing anything. "Just take off your damn underwear already."

That earned him a laugh, and apparently was enough to warrant compliance, for Michael sat up once again and pushed his boxers off of his hips. It took some wiggling to get the all the way down, since he was straddling Gavin's thighs, but he eventually kicked them off the bed and onto some random spot of the floor.

Gavin stared greedily at Michael's cock, now that it was finally free from the confining fabric. It was shorter than his own, but much thicker, with a bright red head and precome beading at the tip. He reached out and ran his thumb over it, getting the hiss of a bitten back moan in return. 

"Much better," he said with a grin, which grew wider when Michael's eyes rolled in response. 

"Are you satisfied now?" he asked, leaning forward to kiss at Gavin's jaw. Their now bare cocks brushed together, and the Brit's hips jutted upwards, resulting in a wonderful slide of skin-on-skin friction. They both groaned, and Michael bit down lightly on Gavin's bottom lip, which only made him jerk up a second time. 

"Nowhere near," he breathed out in reply to the man's question, sliding his hands down across Michael's bare back, and up again, making slow caressing paths with his fingertips and nails. One particularly rough pass up his sides brought out a shiver, and Gavin took pleasure in doing the same thing again, eliciting a similar reaction.

Groaning, Michael dropped his head down, forehead resting against Gavin's chest. "Fucking stop," he whined, looking up just slightly to give a little glare.

"Then get on with it," Gavin shot back, continuing to playfully scratch along the man's sides in an attempt to hurry him along. He was very much enjoying this, but was also beginning to get impatient with the foreplay. He was aching for something _more_. 

Shoving himself upwards, Michael heaved a sigh. "Fine," he huffed, although his facial expression betrayed his true emotions. He was enjoying this, and that realization sent sparks of happiness straight through to Gavin's heart.

"Be still for a second," Michael murmured, leaning forward over Gavin, stretching one arm out to pull open the nightstand drawer.  He groaned in annoyance when he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for, which only made Gavin giggle at his frustrations, despite the sudden onslaught of nerves bubbling beneath the feeling of arousal. It was, after all, easy to guess what he would want out of the nightstand. And, despite wanting it, this was something he'd never done before. 

A nervous chuckle found it's way up his throat as Michael finally sat back, his prize in hand. A bottle of lube, and a foil wrapped condom, which he placed onto the spare pillow, likely for easy access later. Gavin eyed them curiously, avoiding the gaze of the man above him. "Uh, have you done this before?"

"Nope," He responded easily. "Luckily though, we spend so much time online. I at least know what the fuck I'm doing," he continued with a laugh of his own. It eased Gavin's nerves just slightly when he realized that the other man sounded a bit nervous as well. "You're sure you want to? We don't have to _now_ ," Michael asked, running his hand down Gavin's side. The ease and comfort of it brought a sigh to his lips.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "Do me." 

Michael snorted a laugh, and Gavin's grin was cheeky. The nervousness was still there, but it was easily pushed down and ignored. He trusted Michael, more than anything. And besides, this was new territory for the both of them. Neither was letting up control to the other, so he had nothing to fear. 

Taking a deep breath, Michael grabbed for the lube, and moved completely off of Gavin's legs, settling comfortably on his knees on top of the mattress itself. "Spread your legs," he murmured, patting lightly at the Brit's upper thigh. He complied without a word, bending them up as well.

It was more awkward than he ever thought it would be, laying in such an . . . _open_ and compromising position, with his friend's full attention focused on him. It was also incredibly arousing, and his face bloomed red with the force of it. Michael, at least, seemed to be in the same condition as he reached out, finally rubbing his finger against the innermost part of Gavin's thigh.

His breath hitched, and his gazed shifted upwards to the ceiling. "Just hurry up, yeah?" he grumbled.

"Are you embarrassed?" the touching didn't cease, and the finger slowly dragged across his perineum. 

"Of course I'm bloody embarrassed," he said, but his voice was quiet. 

The finger pulled away, and Gavin didn't look as he heard the cap of the lube bottle snap open. "I am too," Michael finally said. "Never would have thought I'd be having sex with you."

Gavin would have taken offense at such a harsh statement, but it was softened by a kiss against his leg, a few tugs to his hard cock, and the gentle, first press of a slick finger against his hole. 

Besides, he felt the same way. 

Michael slowly pushed his finger inside, and Gavin gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, unable to stop himself from squirming.

"Hey, relax." Michael's voice, and the wide grip that settled on his hip was enough to calm him, and he took a deep breath, nodding. 

"I'm fine," he murmured, settling back against the bed. Slowly, the man began to move his finger, pushing it in and out and dragging slickly against Gavin's walls. The sensation made his back arch upwards, and a low moan slip from between his lips. He grasped uselessly for the bed sheets, twisting them between his fingers. His eyelids were desperate to droop closed, but he kept them open, focused on the erotic expression written across Michael's face. He looked aroused and _fascinated_. 

It was nice, seeing such a look on his friend. It made him feel appreciated, desired and, well, loved. Loved by someone who he'd previously imagined would never think of him that way. After having heard about all of his recent relationship problems, that fact that Michael would want something like this, and be willing to do so, so soon after the break up with Meg, was nothing short of amazing. That single action, in fact, encompassed all of the reasons why Gavin adored him so much. He knew when to push and when to pull away. Like they were, as cliche as it was, two sides of the same whole. 

Perhaps getting fucked made him too emotional.

"Gavin," Michael hummed, "You're zoning out, man." With those words, he slid in a second finger next to the first. Gavin already felt sloppy wet with lube, and the sting of more pressure in his ass was on the border edge of too much. He groaned, biting back a moan. He dug his toes into the blankets as Michael scissored his fingers, attempting to stretch him open. It was a painful feeling, but there was a pleasure as well that left Gavin conflicted. 

"How're you doing, Gav?"

He loosely shook his head against the pillow, moaning quietly as Michael hooked his fingers. "It's weird," were the only words he could settle on at the moment that could describe how he felt. 

"Well, my fingers are up your ass," Michael said with a laugh, but it sounded breathy, and as Gavin looked at him, he noticed red cheeks, and lids hooded over a heady gaze. 

Rolling his hips lightly, Gavin grinned. "If you'd hurry up, you could have something else in my ass," he taunted, and watched with extreme satisfaction as Michael's eyes widened. 

He licked his lips, before his features settled back down into an easy grin. "God, I wanna fuck you so bad," Michael chuckled, grabbing for the lube bottle and squirting more on his fingers before pushing at Gavin's stretched rim with a third. It went in with minimal resistance, it's way eased by dripping lube and Gavin's eagerness. 

"Ah, Michael," he moaned, arching his back up slightly, and subconsciously attempting to put his knees together against the sensation. Michael refused to let him, and used his free hand to grip at Gavin's inner thigh, pushing one leg away from the other, spreading him wide again. 

Gavin threw one arm over his eyes, suddenly unable to cope with the embarrassment of Michael holding his legs apart. He worried at his own bottom lip, holding back gasps that threatened to escape with every slight movement of the fingers currently stretching him open. He already felt hyper sensitive, the bed sheets rubbing against his skin, and each movement or sound from Michael sending him closer to an edge he hadn't realized was already so close. 

"Michael, please. Come on already," he whined, giving up on waiting for the man to decide if he was ready. 

Suddenly, the fingers were gone and he was gasping at the loss. A lube covered hand pulled away the arm he'd already forgotten was covering his eyes, and then Michael was right _there_ , expression full of questions and arousal. "You're sure?" he asked.

Gavin nodded furiously. Fumbling slightly, Michael grabbed for the condom, tearing it open and rolling it on. Gavin helped, finding the lube next to his leg and squirting some onto his hand. He stroked it over Michael's cock, hard and furiously red at the tip. He grinned at the pleasurable sigh he was rewarded with.

"Okay," Michael murmured, but it was quiet, and seemed to be more for himself, as he lightly swatted the hand away and took his own dick, lining it up against Gavin's ass. 

Michael was much larger than three fingers , and Gavin's breath hitched when the head pushed in past his rim. He lifted his legs and wrapped them loosely around Michael's waist, attempting to alleviate the sudden _burn_ of pressure. It was much more intense than he'd expected it to be, even with how slow he knew that man was moving. 

"You alright, Gav?" the man asked, but his voice was strained, like it was difficult to hold back. Gavin appreciated the effort, and nodded once, short and jerky, in reply. He could feel himself stretching open, much further than before, as Michael moved forward at an agonizingly slow pace.

Eventually, he bottomed out with a groan of pleasure. Gavin sighed in relief, despite still trying to get used to it all. Besides the burn, he also felt _vulnerable_. He was completely at Michael's mercy for this, and it was a position he wasn't used to being in. He's always been the one doing the fucking, and the loss of that power was just slightly nerve wracking.

He trusted Michael though, more than anyone else, so with a shaky deep breath, he lightly rolled his hips. 

They both _moaned_.

"Michael, fuck me," he whispered, breathless. 

Leaning down for a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, Michael slowly pulled out, and then slammed back in, swallowing down the loud moan that fell from Gavin's lips. He started a slow, but brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping and pleasured groans already loud in the small bedroom. 

Gavin scrambled for purchase on something, digging his fingernails into Michael's arms, and hooking his ankles together, forcing the man closer. It wasn't like any other feeling he'd experienced before. It was too much, yet not enough all at once. Each thrust forced his breath out in a rush. He was moaning loudly, his voice reverberating off the walls with Michael's occasional low groan.

The man was leaning down over him, urged closer by the hands pulling at his shoulders, and in between breaths he murmured "I should have known you'd be loud, Gavin. You can never be quiet, huh?" he laughed breathlessly.

In reply, Gavin begged for Michael to go faster. It was too much. He couldn't seem to clear out his thoughts properly, his head throbbing with _want_ , _need_ , _Michael_ , _more_. Sex had never been so intense before, and he could only hope that the man above him felt at least half as good right now. 

Michael snapped his hips forward, setting a pace much more brutal than before. Each thrust hit deep inside Gavin, and threatened to push him up further across the mattress. The headboard was thumping obscenely against the wall, and he was _mewling_. His nails dug lines across Michael's shoulders, and he cried out for more, though he was doubtful he'd be able to take anything else. "Michael, _ah_ , Michael!"

 The dick inside was stretching him wide, hitting him roughly in just the right spot, and every movement was sending him closer to the edge. Desperate, He reached down between their two bodies, tugging quickly at his own achingly hard cock. He gasped in relief, the added stimulation making him whine.

"Gavin," Michael moaned, gripping at his hips hard enough to bruise. He stroked his cock once, then twice, moaning Michael's name like a mantra, before long stripes of cum dirtied his stomach and chest. His mind was blissfully blank, his orgasm like a blinding flash that left him unable to do anything except gasp helplessly and take it as Michael relentlessly chased after his own release. He tensed up against the cock inside him, and with a few more thrusts, Michael was coming too, Gavin's name falling off his lips.

His hips twitched and stuttered with movement for a long time after he came, and Gavin whined at the feeling, too sensitive to find it enjoyable anymore. Thankfully though, Michael pulled away with a sigh, his soft cock slipping free. The sudden empty feeling was strange, not entirely pleasant, and he gasped quietly at the loss of stimulation.

He watched, silent then, as Michael removed the condom and tossed it away. He stretched, trying to get some feeling back into his loose limbs, and ignored the ache he felt. He was exhausted, used, and dirty, but also incredibly happy. "Michael," he wined, glancing down at his chest. "I'm covered in cum and lube." 

"That's what happens when you come all over your chest, idiot," Michael said with a fond laugh, reaching down over the edge of the bed and pulling up his previously discarded shirt. Gavin began to protest, getting an idea of what he was going to do, but didn't have time before Michael ran it down his front, cleaning him off. "Do you _want_ to get up and go clean off in the bathroom?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Gavin shook his head instantly. "I didn't think so," Michael laughed, crawling up the bed to lay down, his head resting next to Gavin's. 

As his emotions settled down, and he came back from the high of his orgasm, a weird feeling began to set in. There was no going back from this, now that they'd slept together. _Sex_ was one of the last things he would have ever expected to experience with Michael, and yet here they were, laying in bed together after the fact. It made him both incredibly giddy, and incredibly nervous. What did they do now?

Michael seemed to sense his turmoil, and slid closer, throwing an arm across his chest. "Was it everything you expected, Gavvy?"

A sudden laugh bubbled out, though it sounded more strained, filled with nerves. "Hard to say. I didn't really expect this at all," he murmured, gazing up at the ceiling. 

"Would you do it again?" His voice was gentle, like he was trying to calm Gavin, although he also sounded genuinely curious, and maybe even a bit worried about what the answer would be.

He looked over at the man, giving a small smile. "Hell yes," he admitted, despite his fear.

"Me too," Michael chuckled, grinning in return. "Even though you were loud as hell."

Gavin pouted at the teasing. "I wasn't _that_ loud, Michael!" he argued. His worries had been relieved, though. They both wanted more of this. 

"You're joking," Michael laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, showing his true joy. He was glowing, and Gavin was practically awestruck. "It's daytime, and the weekend. The whole fucking building probably heard you, screaming like that."

"Well, whose fault is that?" he grumbled in reply, turning onto his side to better face the man. 

"That's a compliment."

"It's not, you bastard," but they were both laughing, despite themselves. Gavin leaned forward, lightly pressing his lips against Michael's, and basking in the pure joy that surrounded them in the bedroom of their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, that's it!  
> I really, really, hope you liked reading this, even a little bit!


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